A Past of Emerald Shadows
by SamanthaKathy
Summary: Harry de-ages himself with the unwitting help of Draco. And to make matters worse, little Harry is trusting nobody but Draco, who is forced to choose between the little boy and his own destiny as a future Death Eater. Lucius Malfoy gets involved after his
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

Draco dropped down in one of the chairs near the fireplace in the Slytherin common room. Pansy and Blaise seated themselves across from him, watching him with worried eyes. Draco sneered at them. He knew they probably had good cause to be worried, but he didn't want them to question him. Unfortunately, luck was not on Draco's side. It hadn't been for quite some time, if he was truthful.

"Draco, what's going on?" Pansy asked, her voice soft so they wouldn't be overheard.

"Yeah, mate, you were acting like an Inferius on the train, and it didn't much improve during the Welcoming Feast," Blaise took over from Pansy. "Want to tell us what's going on?"

"No," Draco answered, short and clipped.

He had no desire to tell his friends that everything his mother and he had done to get his father out of Azkaban, whether it was legal or not, hadn't worked. They were out of options. Draco's chest constricted every time he thought about his father suffering in that horrible place. He wanted his father back, plain and simple, but it just wasn't possible. He stood and walked to his dorm, not even listening to what his friends were saying.

In his dorm, Draco sat down on his bed with his head in his hands. He was glad Blaise hadn't followed him in, for he didn't want, nor need, the company. His misery was interrupted by the hooting of an owl. Looking up, he was startled to see Potter's snowy white owl sitting on the back of a chair, watching him.

"What do you want, you ruddy bird?" he asked, his tone unpleasant.

In response, the owl stuck out her leg, revealing a letter attached to it. Apprehensively, Draco took it.

After reading it, he was very surprised, and that might even be an understatement. Potter wanted to meet him at midnight in the trophy room for a business proposal. Well, he had nothing to lose, so why not? He scribbled a fast affirmative on the back of the parchment and sent it off with Potter's owl, all the while wondering what Potter could possibly want from him.

That night saw Draco sneaking out of the Slytherin common room at half past eleven. He had a fleeting thought that he was getting rather good at this whole sneaking out business, but soon suppressed it. He didn't need any distractions right now.

Arriving at the trophy room, he saw that Potter hadn't showed up yet. A look at his watch, which pointed to 'you're early', told him that Potter wasn't late, as he had immediately assumed, but he was merely early. Draco paced for a bit, his mind going into overdrive about what Potter might want and why in the hell he even agreed to come. His mind drew a blank on both counts. Before he could work himself into a frenzy about that, however, Potter appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Draco sneered at him, secretly wishing he knew how Potter did that.

"Alright, Potter, start talking."

Potter laughed at that.

"Why Malfoy, are we a little impatient?" he asked, with an amused tone.

Draco decided not to answer that, instead just glaring at Potter. It seemed to work, because the amusement disappeared and Potter became businesslike.

"I've got a deal for you Malfoy: I need you to brew me a potion."

Draco lifted an eyebrow. Potter wasn't serious was he? But he appeared to be.

"Now, why would I do that, and why would you even ask me? Can't Granger do it for you?" he asked, not even unpleasant, so thrown was Draco about the odd request.

"I'm asking you, because I know you can do it. I don't want anybody to know and I know you will not tell anyone, or the deal's off. As for why you would do it, well, you're going to get this," Potter held up a letter, sealed with a crest Draco couldn't quite make out in the spare light their wands produced.

Draco sneered. A letter, Potter wanted him to brew a potion in exchange for a letter. The boy had to be raving mad if he expected Draco to actually fall for that. He said as much to Potter. Potter just laughed, but this time it was a bitter and cold laugh that gave Draco the creeps. Not that he would ever admit it, of course.

"No, I'm not mad. I think you would do just about anything for this letter. It's written by me, signed in blood, unforgable. It tells the story of how Lucius Malfoy has been my personal spy, passing me information and how he was trying to help me in the Ministry of Magic. It also contains a request to let him free, passing it off as some technicality. That's the deal, Malfoy, my potion in trade for your father's freedom."

Draco's mouth had fallen open during Potter's explanation. Potter was willing to get his father released if he brewed him a potion. It had to be some potion for Potter to be willing to do that as opposed to asking Granger. He didn't really have a choice; he wanted his father out. How Potter had known about that weak spot was a question to ponder some other time.

"Fine, let's see the recipe."

Potter put the letter away and took a scroll of parchment out of his pocket. Draco accepted it and read through it. Once again, Potter managed to surprise him.

"A de-aging potion? Why would you want a de-aging potion?"

Potter's face closed off, no emotions visible at all. Frankly, it scared Draco, having never seen Potter look so dead before.

"None of your business, Malfoy. Are you going to make it or not?" Potter said, clipped, short and businesslike.

Malfoy looked from Potter to the recipe and back to Potter again. What harm could it do? A de-aging potion wasn't really dangerous, wasn't forbidden by the Ministry. Nobody would be able to do something to him if they found out. Besides, it wasn't if he really cared what Potter was going to do with it. For all he cared, Potter could feed it to the Dark Lord.

"You've got a deal, Potter."

"Good. Let me know when the potion is finished. We'll do the exchange then."

Potter walked towards the door, but just before he exited he turned around.

"Oh, Malfoy, not a word to anyone, you understand me?"

Draco nodded and Potter disappeared through the door. Draco stayed for a few minutes, just staring at the parchment in his hands. Had he done the right thing? A fleeting memory of his father in an Azkaban cell convinced him he had indeed done the right thing. Putting the parchment away, he began to make his way back to Slytherin territory.

When Draco came back to his dorm, Blaise was waiting for him. Draco cursed softly; he didn't need this right now. Unfortunately, he knew his friend would not be satisfied without at least some answers.

"Where were you?" Blaise asked, more blunt than normal.

Draco sighed and sat down next to Blaise on his bed.

"Would you believe me if I told you I was just going for a walk, because I couldn't sleep?"

Blaise grinned and shook his head.

"Nope, sorry mate. If you'd been unable to sleep you'd have just taken a sleeping potion from your own stores. You've got to come up with something better."

Draco grinned too, but secretly thought it was a good thing Blaise didn't know that he couldn't take any sleeping potion for at least another week to avoid an overdose.

"I had to meet up with someone, and no, I can't tell you who or why. It was just some business that I needed to take care of."

Blaise looked at him, his brown eyes searching for the truth in Draco's own grey ones. Draco was hard pressed not to let out a sigh of relief when Blaise seemed to accept it as the truth. Draco stood and readied himself for bed, hoping to catch at least a few hours of sleep before the first day of school.

"Hey Drake," Blaise's voice sounded softly through the dorm, "was this business the reason you've been acting so weird today?"

Draco grinned in the dark, glad that Blaise had just handed him an out for the questions he just knew Pansy was going to ask the next day.

"Yeah," he answered just as softly.

For Blaise it was enough and he went to sleep. Draco didn't have that luxury, lying awake most of the night, thinking about Potter and his proposition, thinking about his father and thinking about how to brew the potion without anyone finding out.

A week later Draco was sitting in the Great Hall, eagerly awaiting the morning post. He hoped his mother would come through for him, so he could start the three week brewing process. His mind flashed back to the day after his meeting with Potter. He'd been going over the recipe and noticed he needed two ingredients he didn't have. That posed a problem, as he couldn't ask just anybody for it, because they would want to know why he'd need them. And the first time he would be allowed out of the castle was too far away, he couldn't leave his father in Azkaban for so long. So, he'd written to his mother, telling her that he had a plan to get his father out, but that he needed two ingredients. He also told her he couldn't tell her anything more. Today would be the day he would see if his mother trusted him enough to do as he asked without having any information at all.

A fluttering of wings announced the arrival of the mail. Draco looked up, searching for one of the Malfoy eagle owls that would bring his weekly sweet-package. There it was, making its way towards him. As soon as it landed, Draco untied the package. The owl squeaked a bit in annoyance at being treated so roughly, but Draco really didn't care. He opened the package with trembling hands. Sifting through the sweets, he saw a small, nondescript brown package lodged between two boxes of Bertie Botts Beans. He breathed out heavily, glad his mother had come through for him. Closing the packet, he put it in his bag.

"Anything interesting in there?" Pansy asked.

Draco looked at her with suspicion. Had she noticed anything? Had he given something away? He decided to play dumb.

"Sorry Pans, no chocolates this time."

Pansy pouted while Blaise laughed, and several of the braver Slytherins in the vicinity snickered. It was well known throughout the whole of Slytherin House that Pansy always confiscated all of the chocolates Draco got from his mother. Draco grinned, happy his secret was safe.

When he walked out of the Great Hall, his eyes rested briefly on Potter. He seemed to be acting normal, but something was off. Draco couldn't really put his finger on it, but he knew it was something. Shrugging it away, he concentrated on Pansy ranting about the impossible course schedule they'd gotten.

Draco stared into the cauldron that contained his father's freedom. Three weeks of brewing, three weeks of sneaking around and getting up in the middle of the night to be in time for the next step, three weeks of praying nothing would go wrong and of secrets from his friends. Three weeks, and now it was finished. The color was right, so was the consistency. It smelled right, too. As far as Draco could tell, the potion was perfect. Ladling the potion in a vial he had charmed to be unbreakable, Draco let a small smile form on his face. Tonight it ended; tomorrow his father would be in the process of getting freed. With a wave of his wand, Draco cleaned the cauldron of any remnants of potion. No need to leave traces after all. After a small detour to the owlery to send a letter to Potter requesting a meeting tonight because the product was finished, he went to dinner.

At dinner, Potter managed to nod to him, signaling he was going to come to the meeting. At least, Draco supposed that was what it meant. Frowning, Draco directed his thoughts elsewhere. If he wasn't a Malfoy, he would think he was nervous for tonight's meeting. But that was, of course, ridiculous; Malfoys were never nervous. He dug into his food with renewed vigor, trying to get those damned butterflies in his stomach to quit bugging him. He wasn't nervous!

That night, Draco was early again for the meeting. Only this time, he wasn't the only one. Potter was already there when he arrived. Clearly he wasn't the only one impatient to do the trading and be done with everything. For a moment Draco wondered what in Merlin's name Potter planned to do with the potion that was so important he didn't even care that Lucius got out of jail, but that thought was gone almost as fast as it came. In all honesty, Draco truly didn't care what Potter planned to do as long as it got his father out of Azkaban.

"Potter," he said, barely keeping his voice even.

Potter didn't say anything, just nodded his head. He looked Draco over impatiently.

"Do you have it?" he asked.

Draco reached into his cloak and pulled the vial of de-aging potion out of it. Potter eyed it with something that could only be described as hunger. He reached out to grab the bottle, but Draco took a step backwards.

"Where's the letter? I want to read it first, just to make sure you don't double-cross me."

Potter didn't fly off the handle like Draco had expected, but just pulled the letter out of his pocket. Before he handed it to Draco though, he locked the abandoned classroom they were in with powerful wards. Draco took the letter, broke the seal he still didn't recognize but looked vaguely familiar, and read through it carefully, searching for any loopholes that could be used to either deny his father freedom or return him back to Azkaban as soon as Potter was done with the potion. Nothing could be found. Draco had noticed it was signed with Potter's blood, something that was legal even though the subject that had signed wasn't able to say whether he signed it or not. That was why it was always used for last wills and by spies to make their reports. Once it was signed, it was legal and true, no way to contest it. Potter had indeed done it very thoroughly. Even if he would later claim it wasn't true, the document stating it was would still be legal.

"Very well, Potter," Draco said while putting the letter back in the envelope and sticking it into his breast pocket. "Here you go."

Potter took the potion from him. Draco wanted to leave, so he turned to the door when he realized it would still be sealed.

"Open the door, Potter, I'm finished here."

"No you're not Malfoy, first I'm going to check if this is indeed what I asked for, and if it is I'm going to reseal that letter."

Draco sighed. He didn't know how Potter was going to check the potion with his abysmal knowledge of that fine art, but Potter was indeed right in the fact that it would be better if the letter was resealed. After all, the Ministry didn't trust his family anymore and even though the signature was unforgable, they would surely make much more of a fuss if the letter was unsealed than if it wasn't.

Draco turned back around and looked in interest when Potter took a small piece of parchment out of his pocket. Draco nearly gasped as he recognized what it was, but Potter didn't notice his surprise. He was too focused on what he was doing. The small parchment in Potter's hands was worth a small fortune and Draco wondered where he got the money from. Potter always looked like a street urchin when not in his uniform, which wasn't often, so Draco figured his family didn't have a lot of money. But, however Potter had done it didn't matter, because he had. Draco was just glad he hadn't double-crossed Potter, because that slip of revealing parchment would tell Potter exactly what potion he had in his hands. It was so expensive, because it had to be configured to the exact potion for which it was intended to be tested. It would turn blue if it was the potion it was designed for, and if the potion was entirely correct; any brewing mistakes would be instantly detected. If it turned orange, the potion was not the potion you were testing for.

Even though Draco knew his potion was made with perfection, he was still relieved when the parchment turned blue. Potter grinned and held out his hand. Draco was confused for a moment, but then realized Potter wanted the letter. He gave it and watched as Potter sealed it again. For a moment Draco debated asking Potter about the crest. In the end, he decided not to do it. After all, he could just as easily find out himself. And Merlin knew what Potter would ask in exchange for the information. This whole evening, no scrap that, this whole month of dealing with Potter was like dealing with a Slytherin instead of a Gryffindor. And quite frankly, this new Potter freaked Draco out. Although, the letter was something the old Potter never would have written, not for anything.

He felt the wards on the door fall and turned around to thank Potter, however much it hurt him. But the words never crossed his lips as he saw Potter lift the vial to his lips and swallow the entire contents of the bottle. Draco could only watch with horror-filled eyes, knowing exactly what that dose would do, namely de-age one Harry Potter to five years of age. And indeed, Potter began to shrink and in the end, when it stopped, a small boy, looking much younger than five, stood in Potter's robes. Draco thought the boy probably looked so small, because the clothes were positively huge on him.

For a moment, Draco contemplated leaving, after all, Potter had brought this down on himself. He turned to the door, but a small sob made him pause. He looked back and saw mini-Potter looking at him with huge tears rolling down his cheeks. And Draco's only thought was: oh, crap.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

The Gryffindor common room was deserted, save for two figures on the couch in front of the only fire still burning in the room. The crackling of the fire was the only sound in the room and the light played with the shadows. Suddenly the silence was rudely interrupted.

"Ron, will you stop that!" Hermione snapped.

Ron looked at her, surprised by her outburst.

"Stop what?" he asked, honestly confused.

"Looking at your watch every five seconds," she said, irritated.

Ron smiled sheepishly. He hadn't realized he was doing that. But honestly, could she blame him? He was just worried, and rightly so after everything that had happened, both last year and since school started a month ago. In fact, he was more than just worried, he was afraid. But it was a fear he didn't speak of out loud. Neither did Hermione, but it hung between them as a perpetual shadow of doom, waiting to strike.

"Sorry, I'm just worried, you know. He's been gone for three hours already, and he's been behaving, well, oddly, even since we saw him on the train."

"I know, Ron. I'm guessing he's still grieving for Sirius. Besides, having to spend the entire summer at the Dursleys' wouldn't have done him any good either," Hermione said.

Ron knew she was trying to comfort him, but they both knew she was just as worried as he was. She just managed to hide it better. Besides, the explanation was empty. Harry endured the Dursleys every year and never behaved oddly for it. And really, he didn't actually know Sirius that well. Not well enough to explain his weird and erratic behavior away with just saying he was grieving. But once again, these thoughts were not spoken aloud. Ron looked at his watch again.

"Look, we'll go looking for him if he isn't back within the next hour, all right?" Hermione said to him.

Ron nodded, but before he could say anything, McGonagall came in. She didn't even seem surprised to see them still in the common room that was otherwise deserted at this late hour. Hermione became as white as a sheet upon her entry, and all Ron could think was 'please, don't let him be dead'.

"Please follow me to the Headmaster's office. Something has happened to Mister Potter," McGonagall said in a clipped voice.

She then proceeded them to the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. Somewhere along the way, Hermione's hand had found its way into Ron's much bigger one. He gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go to follow McGonagall up the staircase.

Inside the office, Ron immediately looked around him to find some sign of Harry. His eyes flew around the office, noticing Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Malfoy. But no Harry. Suddenly, a small movement behind Malfoy, who was standing like everyone else in the office, drew Ron's attention. His eyes grew wide when he saw a small boy, no older than four by the looks of it, clinging to Malfoy's leg. The identity of the boy was not in question - it was Harry.

Hermione's gasp confirmed that she too had seen him. Ron was too speechless to say anything, the heady feeling of relief that his best friend was alive and seemingly well giving way to too many questions to pick even one to ask. Even Hermione stayed silent.

"Why don't you all sit down?" Dumbledore said, breaking the silence that was steadily growing oppressing.

Snape sat down on the chair closest to the window, McGonagall next to him. Hermione went and sat at the nearest chair, closest to the door. She still seemed out of it. Ron sat down next to her, leaving only the chair in the middle open for Malfoy. Malfoy sat down, little Harry still clutching the fabric of his trousers. Quite frankly, it surprised Ron that Malfoy was allowing Harry to do so. Maybe it was because of the presence of Dumbledore.

"Why don't you tell your story again, Mister Malfoy, now that all that need to hear it are here?" Dumbledore asked.

Ron couldn't understand why Dumbledore didn't seem mad at Malfoy. Surely he had something to do with this. But a sliver of doubt made itself known, as Ron watched Malfoy practically ignore the child, but letting Harry near him. It wasn't standard Malfoy behavior, that was for sure.

"I couldn't sleep, so I went wandering through the castle. I heard someone crying in an abandoned classroom and when I went in I saw him. I took him up here. End of story," Malfoy said, cool and businesslike.

Dumbledore nodded and smiled down at Harry.

"Now young man, I believe it's time you answer some questions. Let's start with your name, shall we?"

Ron had expected little Harry to smile and answer the question, but he didn't. Instead he buried his head in the folds of Malfoy's robe. Dumbledore's smile didn't dim in the slightest.

"Ah, a little shy, are we? Well, I know your name is Harry, but what I truly don't know is how old you are. Can you tell me how old you are, Harry?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle.

Harry once again didn't answer. Hermione tried to prompt him to answer the question, but that only resulted in Harry trying to practically crawl into Malfoys' robes. Ron really didn't know what to think about that anymore, so tolerating Malfoy was of little Harry. Dumbledore asked some more questions, none of them getting any response from Harry, who was still hiding his face.

"Will you just answer the damn questions, you insufferable child!" Snape suddenly bellowed.

This got a disapproving glare from Dumbledore, and strangled sobs from Harry. Then Malfoy did something Ron would never forget. He picked little Harry up and placed him in his lap, comforting him. Harry quieted quickly, content to lean against Malfoy.

"Harry, look at me, please," Malfoy said, in a soft crooning voice.

Ron was surprised when little Harry listened immediately. When had Harry become so trusting of Malfoy? Exasperated, he shook his head. This wasn't Harry; at least, not the Harry he knew. And this Harry didn't have any knowledge about Malfoy, except for what had happened the last couple of hours. And if Malfoy had behaved as he did now the entire time, little Harry would have no reason not to trust him.

"Harry, can you tell me how old you are?" Malfoy asked Harry.

Harry nodded. Everybody in the office seemed eager to hear Harry's answer to Malfoy's question. However, little Harry stayed silent. Dumbledore, who'd leaned forward when Harry had nodded, sat back again. It seemed as if Malfoy wasn't able to get any answers out of little Harry either. Suddenly Malfoy chuckled.

"What's so funny, Malfoy? We're still no further than we were half an hour ago," Ron said with contempt. "He won't answer any of our questions."

"Oh, but he did answer my question," Malfoy said, the superior tone, that had been lacking when he'd talked to little Harry, was back.

"No he didn't," Hermione said decisively, although not unkindly.

"Yes, he did. I asked if he could tell me how old he was and he answered yes. I never actually asked him how old he was," Malfoy said.

Ron stared at Malfoy incredulously. Did he honestly expect a small child to be able to make such a distinction?

"How old are you, Harry?" Malfoy asked, again in that kind voice.

Apparently, he did. But to Ron's, and everybody else's, astonishment, Harry spoke for the first time that evening.

"I'm five," he said proudly, while holding up four fingers.

Malfoy chuckled and gently put little Harry's thumb with his other outstretched fingers. Harry looked at his hand, then back at Malfoy, confusion etched on his face.

"That's five," Malfoy said.

Harry looked at his hand again, as if he'd never seen it before, than gave a big grin.

"Five," he said and nodded.

Dumbledore grinned, the twinkle back full force now that Harry seemed to open up to someone, even if it was Malfoy. Ron still didn't understand why Harry would trust him and answer his questions, but was glad Harry actually talked. The next half hour they learned little to nothing. Or rather, they learned that little Harry knew absolutely nothing. He didn't know how he got here, where 'here' was or who everybody was. While Dumbledore discussed with Snape and McGonagall what could be the cause for Harry's de-aging, Ron saw Harry's eyes begin to droop. By the time the adults were through discussing things, Harry was fast asleep on Malfoy's lap.

"Well, we've decided what we're going to do with young Harry here. Mister Weasley, Miss Granger, do the two of you think you can take care of him while we try and find the cause and a solution?" Dumbledore asked softly.

Ron nodded and heard Hermione whisper an affirmative. And so was it that Ron suddenly found Harry on his lap. His arms tightened around the little boy to keep him from falling off.

"Good, see to it that you don't screw up, Weasley," Malfoy sneered, than walked out of the office behind Snape.

Ron watched him leave, feeling puzzled. Was Malfoy concerned for Harry or was it just a normal insult? Sighing, he decided that he was too tired to deal with Malfoy-issues right now. McGonagall escorted the two teens and their charge back to Gryffindor Tower. When Ron got to his dorm room, he put the still sleeping Harry in his bed, got changed and went to bed himself. As soon as his head hit the pillow sleep pulled him under, giving him no time to think about all that had happened in the last hour.

The next morning Ron was awakened by a bloodcurdling scream. He was out of bed in seconds. Harry was screaming and crying and seemed absolutely hysterical. He'd curled up into a ball and was rocking back and forth. The other boys in the dorm were also awake, standing around the bed Harry was on, looking confused and concerned.

"He somehow got turned into a kid last night when he was out, and he doesn't remember a thing," Ron said, figuring it was best to give them at least some idea of what was going on.

It was a testimony of the troubled years that lay behind them that the other boys in the dorm needed no further explanation. After all, one did not share a dorm with Harry Potter and _not_ get used to the weird happenings that always surrounded him.

"Why is he screaming?" Neville asked.

Ron shrugged his shoulders, he didn't know. He climbed up on the bed next to Harry, making Harry curl up even more - something Ron didn't think was even possible. He rubbed his back, but that made little Harry's cries louder. Defeated, Ron let his hand drop.

"Can one of you guys get Hermione here?" he asked.

Seamus left the dorm and returned shortly after with Hermione. She immediately rushed over to Harry and took him in her arms, which only served to make the boy completely hysterical. In fact, he became so hysterical that Hermione let him go and took several steps back. She looked at Ron and he saw the same desperation in her eyes as he felt. They had no idea what was wrong with Harry or how to fix it.

Ron sat next to Hermione on a hospital bed, watching little Harry sleep on the bed next to theirs. Dried tear tracks were still visible on his face, although it was now relaxed. If only it was a natural sleep, but it was not. They had contacted Madam Pomfrey because they couldn't calm Harry, and she had taken him to the hospital wing. Nothing Madam Pomfrey did or said could get the little boy to calm down. Dumbledore, McGonagall and even Snape all tried to calm him too without success, although Ron didn't know why they even tried Snape. All the man had said was something along the line of "stop that sniveling immediately." In the end Madam Pomfrey had given little Harry some Dreamless Sleep Potion, which was the only reason he was asleep right now.

"What do you think they're talking about in there?" Ron asked Hermione, nodding towards the office in which the adults had retreated.

"They are probably talking about how we need to deal with Harry when he's like this. We couldn't calm him down and nobody knows why. I don't know either, Ron," Hermione said.

He understood that Hermione didn't only mean she didn't know what the adults were discussing. Ron didn't know what had freaked Harry out either. He'd thought it might have been a vision, but Harry's scar wasn't the angry red it was when that happened, and it still didn't explain why Harry wouldn't calm down.

"I don't understand either. But he was acting weird in Dumbledore's office too, acting shy, and even scared. You think the curse or whatever he's under might be affecting more than just his age?"

Hermione looked thoughtful and eventually nodded.

"That might very well be a possibility, Ron. But it doesn't help us deal with the situation at hand, namely what to do with Harry," she said.

Ron nodded, but didn't say anything. After all, what was there to say? He didn't know the answers to the questions either. He looked at Harry again. Ron felt a stab of guilt, hurting much worse than any physical blow ever could.

"We should've gone after him much sooner, we shouldn't have waited. Maybe this whole mess could have been prevented, if we'd just been there for him, instead of waiting in the common room for him to get back," he said.

Hermione laid her hand on Ron's and looked at him with compassionate brown eyes.

"We probably wouldn't have found him in time anyway. After all, Harry took the Marauder's Map with him. It would have taken us hours to search the castle, and even than we could have just missed him. There's absolutely nothing we could have done," she said.

Ron nodded. Rationally, he knew she was right. But that didn't stop him from feeling guilty, and the fact that he couldn't even help Harry now that he was five didn't help in the slightest. He went over his actions again, noting everything that could have gone differently, that he should have done different, when suddenly a disturbing realization came to him.

"Hermione, what happened to Harry's Cloak and the Map? When I searched Harry's stuff for the Map, neither was there, so he must have taken them with him. But they weren't there when he was found. Granted, Malfoy could have taken the Cloak, but he wouldn't have taken the Map. After all, that's just a plain piece of paper, and Malfoy would never realize what the map truly was," Ron said.

"Oh dear, I didn't even think about that," Hermione said, clearly shocked. "But Malfoy could have taken the Map if it was active, because then he would definitely see it for what it is. He may be a lowlife, but he's not stupid."

"Yes, but if the Map was active when Malfoy found Harry, it would have been active when Harry was cursed. And Harry would have avoided the one who cursed him with the Map, and he never would've gotten cursed. So the Map couldn't have been active when Malfoy found him. No, I think whomever did this took both the Cloak and the Map," Ron said.

"That's serious. The one who did this must have known about the Map, and the only one who would have told them is Wormtail; I mean, the twins know and Remus knows, but they would never tell, and I don't think any of them would do this to Harry, " Hermione said, half panicked and half elated. "It must have been Death Eaters, or someone working for them. Wormtail never comes into contact with anybody else. We need to tell Dumbledore as soon as we can. We can't disturb them now, but when they come out we need to tell him. This could help in getting Harry cured."

Ron nodded, but stayed silent. The implications of Death Eaters in Hogwarts were terrifying. Suddenly the silence of the infirmary was broken by the raising of voices. Ron couldn't make out what was being said, but he did know that both Snape and Madam Pomfrey where shouting in Madam Pomfrey's office, where the adults had retreated to talk about the situation. He looked at Hermione, who seemed a bit disturbed by the yelling.

"If Madam Pomfrey is yelling, it must be serious," she whispered, the fear clearly recognizable in her voice.

"Why, my dear, it is indeed quite serious," Professor Dumbledore said, who had entered the infirmary and heard Hermione's last comment. "For we think we've found a solution to our main problem, namely caring for Harry."

Ron immediately perked up. Solutions were always good. He'd take anything at the moment.

"I still say you're crazy, Albus, you can't seriously--" Madam Pomfrey started.

"Yes, I'm quite serious," Dumbledore said, cutting off the rest of Pomfrey's objection.

Right around that time, the infirmary doors opened and Snape walked in with Draco Malfoy, who looked like he had just been dragged out of bed, which was probably the case, considering the time. Ron hadn't even noticed Snape leaving, and he wasn't thrilled to have him back. Especially since Malfoy seemed to somehow be involved in whatever the Headmaster had thought up.

"Uhm, professor, what is Malfoy doing here?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, that's what I like to know," Malfoy piped up.

"Well, earlier this evening Harry was pretty distraught and nobody could calm him down. We had to give him some Dreamless Sleep. But then I remembered his positive reactions to you earlier in my office," Dumbledore explained.

Ron was beginning to get a very nasty feeling in the bottom of his stomach. He had a pretty good idea of where this was going and he didn't like it one bit. And if he was right, it would be the ultimate proof that Dumbledore was indeed crazy. No - more than crazy; he'd be utterly and barking mad to suggest what Ron thought he was going to propose.

"...So, I think it would be best if you cared for Harry while he is little," Dumbledore concluded.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: thanks to my fantastic beta Logical Quirk

Chapter three

Draco dropped little Harry on Weasley's lap and followed Snape out of Dumbledore's office, glad to get away without being questioned. In fact, Dumbledore hadn't even asked in a roundabout way if he had anything to do with Harry's de-aging, taking his story at face value. Draco was very happy with that, because now all he had to do was owl his letter and he was done with this whole business.

Snape had stalked off already, so Draco was free to make a little detour to the owlery before heading to his dorm. Watching one of the school owls fly away carrying his letter, not willing to risk anybody accusing him of forgery because he used a Malfoy eagle owl, he couldn't stop the honest smile from appearing on his face.

Still sporting that smile on his face he entered the common room, where he was immediately ambushed by Pansy.

"Sit," she ordered, while pointing at one of the three wing backed chairs by the fire that had been obviously arranged to ensure privacy.

Draco dropped down in one, while Blaise and Pansy sat down in the other two. Pansy allowed the worry she felt to show on her face as she softly enquired what was wrong with him. Draco felt warmed by the idea that he had two friends that cared enough to notice that something had been off. He decided to humor them and tell them what was going on. Mind you, not all of it, and certainly not his involvement in de-aging Harry, but they deserved to know at least something.

"Well, I've been working on a way to get my father freed for the past month and if nothing goes wrong he'll be free before the end of the week," Draco said.

He couldn't say anything more because he suddenly found himself with a lap full of Pansy, who was hugging him, chanting 'oh, that's wonderful' over and over again. Blaise just grinned at him, visibly pleased but much more reserved than Pansy. A small, sarcastic voice in Draco's had commented that it was a good thing too, because the chair never would've supported the weight of three people.

When Pansy finally settled down enough to sit back down in her own chair, Blaise's look turned calculating.

"There's more then that, isn't there?" he asked, although it came out more of a statement than an actual question.

"Yes, something happened tonight after I'd concluded my business. I happened upon a classroom that should've been empty. It wasn't though, because it was occupied by Potter. A five year old Potter, mind you. I brought him to the Headmaster," Draco told them.

"And?" Pansy prompted.

"And nothing," Draco said, shrugging his shoulders. "I believe he is to be taken care of by Weasley and Granger until a solution is found to bring him back to his right age. I left as soon as I could, so I don't know much more than that."

While it was clear that both Pansy as Blaise weren't too happy with the little information they had, they thankfully seemed to understand that Draco couldn't give them any more information. At least, that's what they thought. Draco's sarcastic voice-in-his-mind, who was beginning to sound a little too much like Snape for Draco's ease of mind, commented that it might be in the best interests of his eardrums that Pansy didn't seem to realize that he had a lot more to do with Harry's de-aging than he admitted. It also commented that since the de-aging, Potter had turned into Harry. Draco was very quick to shut the irksome little voice up.

Draco was having the most wonderful dream when he was awakened rudely by an insistent voice that sounded familiar to Draco's sleep-muddled brain. Opening his eyes, he had to blink several times to get used to the light. Wait a minute, light? It was still in the middle of the night. Draco sat up, and saw professor Snape standing beside his bed. The light came from his wand.

"Is something wrong, Professor?" he asked, his mind going to his father and anything that could've gone wrong with his release.

"Your presence is requested in the hospital wing by the Headmaster. The Potter brat has been brewing up trouble again. Follow me," was Snape's answer.

Draco crawled out of bed, grabbing his night robes on the way out, because Snape was already stalking away and didn't seem inclined to wait for Draco. In, what seemed to Draco record time, they reached the hospital wing. Once inside, he saw little Harry lying in one of the beds, sound asleep. Well, so much for him causing trouble, he thought sarcastically.

"Uhm, professor, what is Malfoy doing here?" Granger asked, directed at Dumbledore.

"Yeah, that's what I like to know," Draco added, although he didn't know for sure whether or not he wanted to know.

"Well, earlier this evening Harry was pretty distraught and nobody could calm him down. We had to give him some Dreamless Sleep. But then I remembered his positive reactions to you earlier in my office," Dumbledore started.

Draco was getting a rather bad feeling about this whole business, but that was soon overcome by concern - not that he'd ever admit it, mind you - for Harry, as Dumbledore explained what had happened. His mind was racing furiously. Whatever had Harry so upset? And could it have been the same thing that made Harry take a de-aging potion? So many question, and all seemed to center around Harry.

"… so, I think it would be best if you cared for Harry while he is little," Dumbledore concluded.

Draco looked around, seeing all eyes upon him. Taking care of Harry was a huge decision: it would make his position on joining the Dark Lord very clear, it could mean never seeing his family again. But one look at the little boy, and Draco knew that there was only one right decision in this situation.

"I'll do it," he said.

The next morning, Draco awoke once again to voices.

"I don't know why an extra bed appeared somewhere in the night, Blaise, quit bugging me about it," a voice said, which was recognized by Draco as belonging to Theo.

It took only a moment longer for Draco to realize that Theo was talking about an _empty_ bed. And an empty bed meant a missing Harry. Jumping out of bed, Draco stalked over to the bed and started searching underneath it.

"Damn, Dumbledore is going to kill me, I've lost him already and the day hasn't even started yet," he grumbled, searching the dorm frantically for any sign of little Harry.

"What are you talking about?" Blaise asked, watching him with both amusement and worry.

"Harry, that's who I'm talking about," Draco shouted, perturbed that Blaise couldn't have figured that out for himself.

"Mate, you're not making any sense," Blaise said, worry taking the upper hand now.

"Last night Snape came to get me, I was taken to the hospital wing and there Dumbledore said I was to take care of Harry. He was supposed to be sleeping in that bed, but he's not."

"Draco," Gregory said, trying to draw his attention.

"Not now, Gregory, I need to find Harry," Draco said annoyed, while he kept searching the dorm, not once looking in Gregory's direction.

"Draco," Gregory tried again.

"What?" Draco screamed, while turning around to face Gregory.

Gregory was standing by his wardrobe, with the door open, and on the bottom of the wardrobe was Harry, huddled in a little ball, but clearly awake, because he was shaking like a leaf. Draco was vividly reminded of Dumbledore's story from last night, and for a second was glad there was no screaming from Harry. But that still didn't explain what was going on and how he was going to get Harry out of the closet.

"Harry," Draco said softly, kneeling down in front of the closet. "Harry, look at me."

Harry shook his head, and the trembling increased. Draco looked at his dorm mates, who were all standing nearby. Maybe Harry was scared of the others. With a tilt of his head, Draco made it clear that he wanted them out of the dorm. Everyone went without protest.

"Harry, angel, everyone's gone now, you can come out of the closet. There's nothing to be afraid off," Draco practically crooned.

Harry once again made no move to come out of the closet at all. Draco was unsure of what to do now; he really didn't want a screaming Harry on his hands, and had the feeling that that was exactly what was going to happen if he pulled him out of the closet.

"Harry, why don't you want to come out? Don't you want breakfast?" he tried, thinking that maybe the enticement of breakfast would be enough to get Harry to move.

"I'm a bad boy, bad boys don't get breakfast," Harry mumbled softly.

Draco almost let out a cry of surprise. Where in Merlin's name did little Harry get the idea that he wouldn't get breakfast if he was bad? Or for that matter, where did he get the idea that he was a bad boy in the first place?

"Oh, Harry, you're not bad. You're not bad at all. But you do need to get out of there, so we can get you dressed. And once you're dressed, we're both going to get some breakfast."

Little Harry looked up at that, and Draco could have cried at the hopeful look Harry gave him. He now knew for certain that something was wrong, and briefly wondered if it had anything to do with the potion he had brewed. But he knew that couldn't be it, so it had to be something else. Unfortunately, he didn't have the time to think it through any further, as Harry crawled out of the closet into his waiting arms. Lifting the little boy up, he said, as cheerfully as he could, "let's get you dressed, shall we?" Harry just nodded and cuddled up to him, still having that look of wonder on his face.

About fifteen minutes later, Draco entered the Great Hall with Harry by his side. The whole Hall fell silent, all eyes on Draco and his companion. Not paying them any mind, Draco picked little Harry up, who was quick to hide his face in Draco's neck. In a few paces he was at the Slytherin table, where Pansy had held two seats for them. Draco tried to put Harry down, but the boy refused, clinging tightly to Draco's robes. Draco decided it was easier to just give in, and sat down with Harry on his lap. Pansy grabbed a plate and began filling it for them, while Draco talked softly with Harry, trying to get him to turn towards the table. Unfortunately, it wasn't working.

"It's all right, Harry, people were just curious. Everyone's gone back to eating, they're not looking at you anymore," Draco said softly.

It might not have been entirely true, but the glares of the Slytherins, especially the sixth years, were keeping at least a lot of people from looking. But Harry wouldn't respond.

"Come on, your breakfast is all ready to be eaten. You don't want to miss it, do you?" Draco tried.

This did get little Harry's attention. He peered at Draco's face, eyes full of wonder and enjoyment.

"You meant it?" he asked, his voice conveying the absolute marvel he felt. "I really get to eat breakfast?"

Draco had no idea how to respond to that, never mind that he couldn't find his voice at the moment. What was wrong with Harry that he didn't believe he was going to get breakfast? So he just nodded. It appeared that was enough though, as Harry turned around on his lap and tentatively began to eat.

Now that breakfast had finally begun for the Slytherin group, it went relatively well. Draco introduced Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Greg and Vincent. He decided to leave the rest of the sixth years for a later time, as Harry was already incredibly shy with just that little group of people. But then disaster struck in the form of Gregory Goyle. Not that that was his intention, of course. In fact, both he and Vincent had been trying really hard to soften their voices when speaking to little Harry, so as to not be considered scary. But halfway during breakfast, Greg reached for the plate of pancakes and accidentally knocked the pitcher of pumpkin juice over. And after quickly righting it, he performed a _Scourgify_. That's when the mayhem began. Little Harry had watched Greg perform the charm with wide eyes, and almost before the pumpkin juice had been vanished, Harry was gone from Draco's lap with a small _pop_. Draco immediately jumped up.

"Professor, Harry just disappeared! It looked like he Apparated," he shouted in the general direction of the Head Table.

And with that, pandemonium broke out. Weasley and Granger came running to the table immediately, and while Granger at least made herself useful by searching for Harry, albeit in the Muggle way of looking under tables, Weasley was just screaming at Draco, blaming him for making Harry disappear. Pansy was screaming back at Weasley, while Blaise had to physically restrain her from attacking him with her nails. Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall were all trying to get answers out of Draco, while arguing among themselves as to what had caused Harry's disappearance, since Apparating was impossible on Hogwarts grounds. Greg was looking very guilty, while Vincent tried to convince him that it wasn't his fault. Draco wasn't paying any attention to them at all, he just wanted to find Harry.

"Theo, try every tracking charm that you know," he ordered.

While Theo went to work, Draco tried to think about where the little boy would go to. He'd obviously been scared, since he'd tensed up completely just before he disappeared. The only places little Harry had been to in Hogwarts were Gryffindor tower, but since he'd been completely hysterical there from the moment he woke up, it was unlike he went there to hide. The same went for the infirmary. Draco doubted he was still in the Great Hall, as whatever had frightened the little boy had happened there. So that left either the Slytherin dorms or Dumbledore's office.

"Draco," Theo called to get his attention, "no tracking charm has been able to find him."

Draco nodded. That could be a problem, but it could also just be Harry shielding himself. If he could Apparate, he could surely do that, even if it was unconscious. Deciding he could no longer wait for the bickering adults, he sent Theo to check Dumbledore's office, giving him the password in the hope it hadn't been changed, and went to check out the dorms himself. Nobody even noticed the two boys slip out.

When Theo entered the Slytherin dormitories without little Harry, Draco sank down on the closest bed. He knew it had been a long shot, as the tracking charms should have pointed them to Harry, but he had hoped…

"We should get back to the Great Hall, maybe the teachers know something by now," Theo said, ever the voice of reason.

Draco just nodded dumbly, his mind still racing. Could he have prevented Harry's disappearance? Where was Harry? Why did he disappear? He didn't know the answer. In fact, the more time he spend with little Harry, the less he understood and the more questions he seemed to have. And all of them went unanswered. On one hand, he regretted ever picking little Harry up to deposit him with Dumbledore , yet at the same time, he wanted to grab the little boy and hide him from all the evil in the world. That was a strange thing in and of itself, as Draco had never even liked Potter. Yet there was something about the little boy that intrigued him, and made him want to protect him and care for him.

Without noticing it, something that never, ever happened, he had reached the Great Hall with Theo. There were fewer people in there than before. Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall were the only staff that had remained, together with Granger and Weasley. The rest of the students, including the other Slytherins, were gone. Presumably to class.

"Have you found anything, my boys?" Dumbledore asked, his entire countenance serious for once.

"No, we tried every tracking charm we knew, and checked the dorms and even your office," Draco said, exasperated and tired at the same time. "It's like he's not even at Hogwarts anymore."

At that remark, Dumbledore's eyes widened. He called Fawkes to him. The magnificent bird appeared, carrying a strange silver device. After some fiddling with it, Dumbledore set it on the table where it spun for a moment before becoming motionless again. Dumbledore sat down heavily on one of the seats at the Slytherin table.

"Headmaster?" McGonagall asked concerned.

"Harry is indeed no longer at Hogwarts, and worse, he is behind powerful wards that even Fawkes cannot breach. The only thing we now know for sure is that wherever he is, he is still alive and not in life threatening danger."

Everyone fell silent. Granger seemed to be fighting tears. Normally Draco hoped that the girl would fail at whatever she was trying, but now he fervently wished she succeeded. He did not want to deal with a crying Granger. Luckily for him, it seemed that she would once again prevail. Weasley seemed to murmur something under his breath, but Draco was nowhere near interested enough to try and decipher what the idiot was muttering. Now Snape's mutterings were far more interesting to Draco, as he was reciting dark, and rather illegal, spells that could be used to track down something, or in this case someone. Some of those spells Draco recognized, others he didn't. But he did know that some of them at least had the potential to penetrate through any ward, with the exception of the Fidelius Charm. There was still hope.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four

Lucius Malfoy sat huddled up in a corner of his cell, trying to stay warm. It was no use though, since the cold from the stone walls and floor seeped through the thin robe he wore. A bowl of some kind of unidentifiable mush stood by the door, his only meal that day, but Lucius made no move to get it. Instead he stared morosely at some carvings in the wall. He made them, one for each day he was there. It was the only way to keep track of time. At least, assuming he got one meal a day; otherwise he had been here much longer than three months. Not that he cared; he'd stopped caring about two months ago. No, he held no hope for release. If Narcissa hadn't gotten him out in the first month of his imprisonment, then there was no hope of procuring his release. All he hoped for now was that she and Draco were all right.

The Dark Lord would not be pleased with his failure. Lucius knew this for sure. And with him in jail, His anger would be directed at his family. Draco would be called to serve Him, would probably be given an almost impossible mission. A suicide mission. There was no mercy from the Dark Lord. The man – no, creature – was completely insane. He'd seen it even before Potter had defeated him. Draco's birth had strengthened his resolve to keep his family safe from that maniac. He had been relieved when the Dark Lord disappeared and horrified when He came back. Returning to serve Him seemed the only option to keep his family safe, so he did it. And now he had failed them. He couldn't save his son, because he was locked up. Unable to help, all he could do was pray for his family's life.

Suddenly, his prayers were interrupted by the opening of his cell door.

"Get up, Malfoy," one of the Aurors stationed at Azkaban said. "You've been released, some kind of technicality. Don't know who you bribed this time, but apparently it worked."

The Auror pulled him up roughly when he didn't comply fast enough. Before he knew it, he was handed his personal effects. Changing into his own robes, chucking the prisoner robes into a corner, it all seemed surreal. It didn't start feeling real until he had crossed the icy North Sea to the Azkaban guard house on the main land, where he received his wand back. With the familiar, and more importantly, warm feeling of his magic flowing free once more, it abruptly hit him. He was free, Free to help his son, if it was not yet too late.

Suddenly feeling a sense of urgency, he left the guard house, not minding the hostile looks of the Aurors. He didn't care about them, only about his family. He Apparated directly into the Manor, something which only he, as Lord Malfoy, was able to do.

"Cissy!" he called out.

Within moments she appeared in the doorway to his study, where she stood frozen for a moment before rushing up to him and flinging her arms around his neck. She stayed silent, but her hot tears dripping down her cheeks into his neck where she had buried her face said it all. Lucius just held her, murmuring reassurances in her ear.

Half an hour later, Narcissa had calmed down and they adjourned to one of the smaller sitting rooms.

"I don't know how you did it, but thank you for getting me free," Lucius said to her.

Narcissa shook her head.

"It wasn't me. I've tried everything, but nothing worked. When Draco went back to school, all options were exhausted. But not long after he was there, he sent me a request for some potions ingredients, asking me to hide it in his normal care-package. He said he had a plan to get you out," Narcissa explained.

She grabbed Lucius's hand, smiling at him.

"I don't know what he did, or how he did it, but it worked. You're free."

Lucius smiled back, but made a mental note to question his son on the matter as soon as possible.

"And Draco? Is he still safe from Him?" Lucius questioned his wife, his voice soft.

Narcissa nodded, and Lucius felt the tension flow out of his body. That was the most important thing for now. Now that the fear for his family's fate had left his, he felt dirty and tired for the first time since he was taken from his cell. Concluding that planning how to keep his family safe could wait until tomorrow, he decided that it was time for a nice bubble bath and lots of sleep in his own bed, next to his wife.

The next morning, Lucius sat in the family breakfast room enjoying some toast. Narcissa was still asleep, and he hadn't had the heart to wake her up. It was probably the first restful, non-potions-induced sleep she'd had since his incarceration.

Suddenly the wards alerted him to an intruder inside the Manor. He followed the pull of the wards to Draco's bedroom. With his wand out, he carefully opened the door. No spells came flying towards him and he couldn't detect any movement. Stepping into the room, he looked around for anything living, but Draco's room seemed empty. He knew it wasn't; the wards were never wrong. Then he heard a sound. It was soft, dampened by something, yet he could still hear it faintly. Focusing on it, it was like someone was murmuring, Turning towards the direction from which the sound came, he noticed that the door of the wardrobe was slightly ajar. Frowning, he slowly came closer. He could hear the murmurings more clearly now. It was a constant litany of 'I'm sorry' and it sounded like a child. He carefully pulled the closet door open. There, at the back, sat a little boy, huddled up in a ball. From his size, Lucius estimated he was around four years old. He couldn't see the child's face, just his black hair. The fact that the child was wearing a green wizarding robe ruled him being a Muggleborn out.

Lucius placed his wand back in his robes. The child wasn't a danger. He was just very frightened and had probably landed himself here by accidental magic. The soft murmurings of the child had stopped. Lucius was indecisive for a moment. He had the feeling that coaxing the boy out of the closet would take up a lot of time, but taking the boy by force was probably an even worse decision. Having decided on a course of action, Lucius lowered himself upon the floor.

"Hello, my name is Lucius. Can you tell me who you are?" he asked, deliberately keeping his voice soft.

The boy didn't respond at all. If not for the tensing of the boy's body, he would've thought the boy hadn't heard him. It was obvious he wasn't going to get an answer. He tried again, with the same reaction. Other questions, like how the boy got here, weren't answered either. Changing tactics, Lucius tried to bribe the frightened boy with candy, a nice outing, a toy and breakfast, but the boy wasn't budging from his place in the closet. Lucius heaved a sigh. He didn't know what to do anymore.

"And here I thought I was through with little children when Draco grew past that stage," he said out loud, to no-one in particular.

"Draco," the boy questioned.

Lucius was surprised. It was the first thing the boy had responded to, and he didn't understand why. But he wasn't going to stop now. Not when he finally seemed to be getting somewhere.

"Yes, Draco. He's my son," Lucius said to the boy.

Although the boy had lifted his head a bit, Lucius still couldn't make out any features because of the darkness of the closet. But Lucius was sure the boy's eyes were measuring him up.

"He's here?" the boy asked.

"No," Lucius answered, shaking his head. "He's at Hogwarts now. He goes to school there."

"Oh," the boy said. "Are you mad at me?"

"No, I'm not," Lucius said, fervently hoping the boy believed him.

"Oh," the boy said again, sounding bewildered by that. "And you're Draco's dad?

It seemed his relationship to his son was very important, although Lucius couldn't phantom why.

"Yes I am," he reaffirmed. "Do you know Draco?"

"He takes care of me and feeds me and holds me," the boy said in a rush.

Lucius was stunned. Draco was providing for this boy? If Draco had been any older, or the boy younger, he might have suspected the child to be Draco's. But it couldn't be, although he had no other explanation either. It didn't matter for now. He still had to get the child to come out of the closet.

"How about you come out of there and we'll write a letter to Draco, telling him where you are," Lucius said.

"He'll come and get me then?" the boy asked.

"I'm sure he will," Lucius answered, while thinking it would be the perfect time to ask Draco his ever-lengthening list of questions.

The boy had obviously decided that writing to Draco to come and get him was worth coming out of the closet for. When the boy had crawled out, he stood up and Lucius got his first good look at the boy's face. He nearly reeled back from the surprise of seeing Harry Potter's face. The lightning-bold scar on the boy's forehead made sure there could be no doubt. Lucius smiled at the still nervous child, and Harry smiled back hesitantly. Lucius didn't understand how Harry Potter had de-aged, or why Draco was taking care of the boy. But he did know that Draco was likely to be able to answer at least a couple of his many questions. So writing to his son would be the first thing to do now. Not to mention that he had promised exactly that to the boy. He held out his hand.

" Come along, Harry," he said.

"How did you…" Harry stammered, clearly on the verge of panicking.

"Draco talks a lot about you in his letters home," Lucius said, while thinking it wasn't exactly a lie.

It seemed to set Harry's mind at ease, because he slipped his small hand inside Lucius's larger one. Together they walked to Lucius's study, where Lucius proceeded to write a letter to Draco. When he was finished, he asked Harry, who'd been sitting quietly on his lap, if he'd like to add something to the letter. Harry murmured something he didn't catch.

"What was that?" he said.

"I can't write," Harry said softly.

"Well, that's not a problem," Lucius said, glad Harry couldn't see his frown.

The boy should be able to write at least a little, but Lucius didn't say that to Harry. Instead, he offered to write what Harry wanted to say. Harry dictated a few sentences, which Lucius dutifully wrote down. He then grabbed a small, silver flute out of a drawer. He blew on it, and a few minutes later an eagle owl come flying in through the open window. Harry watched the owl with open mouth. Lucius smiled.

"This is Loki, he'll bring our letter to Draco in no time," he said to Harry.

With deft hands, he tied the letter to Loki's leg and sent him on his way. It would be at least two hours before Loki reached Hogwarts. Even if someone there would come immediately, which Lucius expected would happen, there were still two hours in which he had to keep Harry busy. For now the boy sat quietly and quite content in his lap, but thinking back to his own son when he was that age, he knew it wouldn't last long.

Two hours later, Lucius looked bemusedly at his wife, who was chasing Harry Potter through the entrance hall in some sort of Muggle game called 'tag'. He would never have imagined Narcissa playing a Muggle game, but it seemed that she just wasn't able to say no to a de-aged Harry Potter. He would have nightmares about the 'chocolate- sundae-making' that they'd done before this. How on earth the boy had managed to talk him into joining in he still didn't know. The boy should've been a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor. A sudden shout of 'Draco!' got Lucius to pay attention to his surroundings again. Harry had thrown his arms around a visibly relieved Draco, while Dumbledore and Severus were watching the scene. Dumbledore did so with twinkling eyes and Severus with a sneer.

"Lucius, I see you are out and about again," Dumbledore remarked.

Lucius didn't answer. The fact that he didn't have one wasn't something Dumbledore needed to know.

"Care to explain how a five year old Harry Potter ended up in my house?" he asked instead.

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes receded a little.

"I thought you would know," Dumbledore admitted.

"I had nothing to do with it," was all Lucius answered.

In the meantime, Harry had been busy prattling on to Draco about all they had done that day. Lucius watched them interact, feeling proud of Draco. But he wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

"Narcissa, why don't you take Albus and Severus to the parlor for some tea, while I talk to Draco in my office," Lucius suggested.

Aside from Narcissa and little Harry, nobody looked very happy with that, but they went along with it. Harry followed Draco into the office, refusing to let Draco out of his sight, although Lucius noticed that Draco wasn't exactly protesting. Once everyone was seated, Harry on Draco's lap, Lucius began his questioning. He would be getting some answers, or else.

"How did you get me out?"

Draco hesitated before answering.

"I made a deal with someone. They would get you out, which they did, and I would provide a service to them."

Lucius narrowed his eyes and asked what kind of service, but Draco refused to answer, claiming an oath of secrecy. Lucius didn't like that at all.

"Dad, I promise, it's nothing bad. It's not illegal, I've already done it and now the deal is closed," Draco said.

Lucius knew he wouldn't be getting any more answer on that subject, so he decided to try for a new one.

"Now, could you perhaps explain why my breakfast was interrupted by a five year old Harry Potter appearing in my house?"

"Well, that's a bit difficult. We don't know how he de-aged, who did it, or why. Nor do we know how he disappeared from the Great Hall. And I don't have a clue why he did that or why he ended up here either."

So basically," Lucius said pensively, "you can't tell me anything."

Draco nodded, and Lucius sighed. It seemed Draco wouldn't be able to provide the answers either. He suspected that Harry might know a bit more about his disappearance from the Great Hall, but the boy had fallen asleep on Draco's lap and Lucius didn't want to wake him up just to ask some questions that could wait a while longer.

That left them with only one topic left, one that Lucius didn't truly wanted to bring up. But he knew that they had to talk about it sometime, and the sooner the better.

"Now, we need to talk about the Dark Lord," Lucius started.

Draco tensed up immediately, and pulled Harry's sleeping form closer to him in a protective gesture. Lucius realized how his son had interpreted that sentence, but he hadn't known how else to start the conversation.

"We need to find a way to keep you out of his hands."

Draco relaxed again. It seemed his son had been smarter than he thought, and had realized that serving the Dark Lord was not a good idea. Lucius was thankful for that; it made things much easier. It seemed his lessons about thinking for oneself had some effect after all. He hadn't know for sure, his son was a good actor. Then again, so was he.

"He is sure to want revenge, especially as I am not going back to him. He would just kill me for my failure and then direct his attention to you. He will be doing that anyway, so we need to keep you safe."

Draco nodded.

"I know. I thought I might go to Dumbledore, ask for some protection. I'm sure to get it, seeing as Harry Potter is in my care at the moment," Draco answered.

"Yes, you might. I do want to hear how this exact situation came about, as I'm curious about that, but that is of later concern. Right now I'm more concerned about what will happen once Harry Potter is restored to his rightful age. Will they still keep you safe?"

Both men fell silent. Lucius knew that the moment Harry Potter was once again sixteen, Draco would be asked to spy for Dumbledore. No spying, no protection. He'd seen it happen with Severus, and his heart ached for his friend. He'd kept his mouth shut about it; in his opinion, the Dark Lord didn't need to know that Severus spied on him. But he didn't want that life for his son.

"Harry will protect me. I mean, if he is restored he'll probably remember this. He would help," Draco said confidently.

Lucius looked at the small boy sitting in his son's lap. Would he really remember? Would he trust them enough to help them? Could that little boy still be friends with Draco once his memory was restored again or was there too much history between them for that? Lucius didn't know the answers, and that chagrined him. But right now, it seemed the best course of action. He looked at his son, holding Harry Potter, hoping against all hopes Draco was right in his assessment of the boy's willingness to help him.

"We shall see," was all he said.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter five

Chapter five

Snape had been muttering tracking charms for the last fifteen minutes, and there was still no result. Draco was beginning to loose hope that they would ever find Harry. Theo, ever the practical one, had urged him to at least sit down, but Draco was too restless. Suddenly, Snape's mutterings stopped and an eerie silence descended upon the Great Hall. Draco whirled around to face Snape ad Dumbledore, but Snape didn't wear a triumphant look and Dumbledore still looked grave. Draco deflated.

"Well, it doesn't look like there is much we can do for now, so why don't we all just go to class," McGonagall said, pointedly looking at the students.

So it was said, so it was done. Before he knew it, Draco was sitting in Charms. The rest of the Slytherins had one look at him and knew that little Harry hadn't been found yet. Professor Flitwick seemed to understand that both Gryffindors and Slytherins were severely distracted, so he just lectured. Draco tried to concentrate, but it proved to be an exercise in futility.

It was close to lunchtime when something penetrated the haze of distraction and worry Draco was in. An owl landed on the windowsill next to his desk. For once Draco was glad he took History of Magic, as everyone else who was there was fast asleep. Untying the letter, he got a rush of feelings at seeing his father's handwriting. A quick look at Binns showed the ghost hadn't noticed a thing. Draco decided that reading the letter now was probably better than at lunch, where he would be surrounded by his fellow Slytherins. He wasn't in the mood for questions.

_Dear Draco,_

_First of all I want to thank you for getting me home. I am very proud of you, my son. However, that is not the reason I am writing you this letter. As it happens, there is a friend of yours who accidentally found his way into our home. He dearly wants you to come and pick him up. If you could be so kind as to do that at your earliest convenience?_

_With love,_

_Your father._

_P.S._

_Hey Draco,_

_your father's really cool, but I miss you. Can you come pick me up? _

_Harry_

Draco blanched. His father had Harry! He grabbed his bag and took off at a run. He didn't care about the weird looks his classmates gave him, nor about Binns calling, "Mr. Mallory, where are you going?" All he cared about was getting to Dumbledore as quickly as possible.

Ten minutes, one ridiculous password, one floo-call, and one Portkey later, Draco stood in front of the grand doors of Malfoy Manor with Dumbledore and Snape at his side. Taking a deep breath, Draco opened the doors and stepped inside, only to be attacked by a human cannonball by the name of Harry Potter, who'd shouted his name and flung his arms around him. Draco smiled, drinking in the sight of a healthy and apparently very happy Harry Potter, who was telling him all about the fun things he'd done while at the Manor.

"Narcissa, why don't you take Albus and Severus to the parlor for some tea, while I talk to Draco in my office," Lucius suggested, drawing Draco's attention.

Draco wasn't too happy about the upcoming interrogation he knew would follow, but was relieved that Harry'd decided to go with him. At least he could keep an eye on him.

"How did you get me out?" Lucius asked.

Draco hesitated. How was he going to answer that one? He wouldn't sell Harry, and himself, out, not even to his father. Particularly to his father. As much as he loved the man, he was still a Death Eater, and wanted that for his son too.

"I made a deal with someone. They would get you out, which they did, and I would provide a service to them," he answered.

It was a good answer; it told the truth without giving anything away. Unfortunately, his father was Slytherin enough to realize that. He wanted to know what service, but Draco had no intention of telling that little tidbit of information.

"I made an oath, father, to keep the details of the deal a secret, and that includes with whom I made the deal. I can't tell you anymore, I'm sorry."

Draco saw his father was anything but satisfied with the answer. He saw a flash of concern go through the eyes that were so much like his own. He tried to reassure his father.

"Dad, I promise, it's nothing bad. It's not illegal, I've already done it and now the deal is closed."

It appeared as though Lucius would take his word for it, for he changed the subject.

"Now, could you perhaps explain why my breakfast was interrupted by a five year old Harry Potter appearing in my house?" Lucius asked.

Draco leaned backwards in the chair, settling Harry a bit more comfortably on his lap. Harry'd fallen asleep, probably tired out from the morning scare and games that were played afterwards.

"Well, that's a bit difficult. We don't know how he de-aged, who did it, or why. Nor do we know how he disappeared from the Great Hall. And I don't have a clue why he did that or why he ended up here either," Draco answered his father.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He did know how Harry de-aged and who did it, but other than that, he didn't know anything either. And especially the why part of the questions: both why Harry had de-aged himself and why he Apparated, for all intents and purposes, out of the Great Hall to Malfoy Manor, greatly intrigued him.

So basically," Lucius said pensively, "you can't tell me anything."

Draco nodded, and his father heaved a sigh. Draco knew it had to be hard for the man, just out of Azkaban, things happening all around him and absolutely no answers whatsoever.

"Now, we need to talk about the Dark Lord," Lucius started.

Draco tensed up immediately, and pulled Harry's sleeping form closer to him in a protective gesture. _What, already? No, I'm not ready to declare my intent; I'm not ready to lose you again, I've just got you back. _Draco's rambling thoughts were interrupted by Lucius's next sentence.

"We need to find a way to keep you out of his hands."

Draco relaxed again. That was not something he'd expected his father to say. Maybe Azkaban had given him a scare? Or maybe he knew what a madman the Dark Lord really was, but had no way out of his service. The last seemed more likely.

"He is sure to want revenge, especially as I am not going back to him. He would just kill me for my failure and then direct his attention to you. He will be doing that anyway, so we need to keep you safe," Lucius said.

Draco nodded. That was something he'd given a great deal of thought this past summer. Not once though, did he envision a de-aged Harry Potter in his plans. It changed a lot, but made a lot of things easier too.

"I know. I thought I might go to Dumbledore, ask for some protection. I'm sure to get it, seeing as Harry Potter is in my care at the moment," Draco answered.

"Yes, you might. I do want to hear how this exact situation came about, as I'm curious about that, but that is of later concern. Right now I'm more concerned about what will happen once Harry Potter is restored to his rightful age. Will they still keep you safe?"

Draco was certain Harry would protect him once he was restored again. First of all, because he would remember everything, second of all because Draco had kept his secrets and would continue to do so. But most of all, because maybe the memories of little Harry about his Slytherin friends would show Harry that Slytherins were worthy of his protections and give him enough reasons to keep his newfound friends safe. Knowing the whole Gryffindor chivalry and honor code, Draco was sure Harry would keep him safe.

"Harry will protect me. I mean, if he is restored he'll probably remember this. He would help," Draco said confidently.

His father didn't look convinced, but merely answered that they would see. Both men fell silent after that heavy conversation. Draco looked at little Harry, who slept like there was no evil in the world, burrowed into Draco's chest and side, huddled up into a ball. The posture reminded him of the happenings of that morning, and the story of the night before. He briefly told his father about it.

"Well, it indeed seems like there is something going on. Maybe it has something to do with whatever spell was cast on him, and maybe it's something else. We won't know until we ask him some questions," Lucius answered.

"We can do that now; he's awake," Draco said.

He felt Harry tensing on his lap. Apparently, he hadn't expected Draco to detect he was awake. After a second, little Harry sat upright. His eyes were firmly on the floor, but Lucius was having none of that. He cajoled Harry into looking at him.

"Well, Harry, I've got a few questions I'd like you to answer for me. It doesn't matter what the answer is, as long as you're telling the truth, all right? There's no right or wrong answer here," Lucius said gently.

He waited until Harry had nodded his head before asking what had happened at breakfast that scared him so much. Harry stayed silent, obviously torn between wanting to keep silent and answering the question. His hands were twisting the edge of his left sleeve, and he was looking at the floor again. Draco shared a concerned look with his father. Putting a finger under Harry's head, he turned it upwards until he could look Harry in the eye.

"It's all right, Harry," he said as gently as he could, "you can answer, we won't get angry. I promise."

Harry bit his lip, took a deep breath and rushed out a sentence so fast neither Draco nor Lucius could understand what he had said.

"Honey, can you say that again, just a little slower this time, we didn't quite catch that," Draco said.

"Because I did a freaky thing," Harry mumbled, although this time they did understand him.

"What do you mean, freaky?" Lucius asked.

Harry jumped up from Draco's lap, and curled up in a ball on the floor.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I'm sorry. I promise I won't do it again, I promise, I promise, I promise, please don't hit me," Harry cried out, completely hysterical.

For a moment, it looked like time stood still. Draco couldn't believe his ears. Hit him? Freaky things? What in the name of Merlin was going on here? Or better yet, what was going on in Harry Potter's life at age five, because Harry was acting on the basis of his real memories, and Draco was getting a nasty feeling about the situation.

Lucius, in the meantime, was trying to comfort the distraught child, but wasn't having any success. Draco fell onto his knees next to Harry and started stroking his back, while murmuring calming words in Harry's ear. Slowly, Harry calmed down, and Draco picked him up, and dropped down in a chair with Harry in his lap.

"Now, child, I do not know what you mean by a freaky thing, but I promise you that I will never, ever hit you. Do you understand that?" Lucius said.

Harry nodded, but it didn't seem like he really believed it. But, seeing as he was calm for now, Draco decided it didn't really matter. What was more important was figuring this whole thing out.

"Harry, love, can you tell me what you mean, what the freaky thing you did was? I promise I won't get angry," Draco said.

"I made the juice disappear," Harry said softly, while trembling.

Draco tightened his grip a bit, while thinking about what Harry meant. Suddenly, he realized that just before Harry disappeared, Greg had spilled some juice and cleaned it up with magic.

"Harry, love, that wasn't you, that was Greg, and…" Draco started.

"He's a freak like me?" Harry asked surprised.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment. How could a five year old think of himself as a freak? There really was a lot more going on than met the eye. And frankly, Draco was almost scared to uncover more.

"No, Harry, you are not a freak, and neither is Greg. Greg is a wizard, like you, and he used magic," Draco answered.

"No," Harry shouted. "Magic is bad, I'm not bad, really, I'm not."

The almost violent outburst surprised Draco. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived thought magic was bad? He looked at his father, who was clearly unhinged by the recent revelations. His face showed nothing, but the turmoil in his eyes betrayed him. Draco knew his father was deeply shocked by Harry's statements.

"Dad?" Draco asked.

His voice betrayed how much this had affected Draco. A wizarding child that thought his magic was a bad thing, and the barely concealed clues that pointed towards abuse; Draco didn't know how to handle this. It wasn't supposed to be this way; Harry Potter was supposed to be pampered and revered, not beaten and feared.

"We will get to the bottom of this, and then decide what to do," Lucius said. "We'll go to the library, I'm sure I can find some of your old children's books to keep Harry busy."

Thirty minutes later, Harry was happily browsing through one of Draco's old books, while Lucius and Draco poured over some ancient and not so ancient tomes.

"I think I've found something to help us," Lucius said. "It's a spell to show all injuries a person has ever had. This should show us if he's really been abused."

Draco looked over the spell. It was Dark in nature, be he could find no remarks about it hurting the person it was used upon. Still, he knew never to trust on a mere book when it came to Dark spells.

"It won't hurt him, will it?" he asked his father.

"Of course not," Lucius answered. "I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise."

Draco nodded his consent, and called Harry over.

"Now, honey, I need you to stand still with your eyes closed for a moment. Can you do that for me?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded, and proceeded to do as asked. Lucius cast the spell, and a second later, Harry's whole body was covered in a red light, and some places, like his left arm and ribs, were deep purple. Draco sucked in a breath. Red light meant severe injuries with malicious intent, purple light meant injuries that would have left permanent damage if they weren't treated with magic. And since Draco knew for a fact that Harry had never been to the magical world before, his reactions proving that, Harry's own magic must have healed those places. The abuse was much, much worse than Draco could ever have imagined. The light faded again, leaving no traces in its wake, as if the injuries were never there to begin with. But Draco knew better.

"Thank you, child, you did well," Lucius said.

Harry beamed up at him, and went back to his books.

Suddenly, Draco had to grab the edge of the table to steady himself as a startling idea came to him. If this was how severe the abuse was after five years, how much worse would it be after sixteen?

"By Merlin, no wonder he de-aged himself," Draco whispered, not even conscious of the fact he was speaking out loud.

"What do you mean, de-aged himself?" Lucius asked, a sharp edge to his voice.

Draco, however, was saved from answering by the arrival of Snape.

"There you are, Lucius, I've been looking all over for you. We have an emergency, you are needed right away," Snape snapped, then turned and left the library, clearly expecting to be followed.

"We will talk about this when I get back," Lucius said, before following.

Draco really couldn't care less. His mind was on Harry Potter, his Harry, and how he could save him. Because now that the secret was out, he would be re-aged again; the potion to do that would only take two weeks. And then what would Harry do to escape? Kill himself? No, Draco couldn't let that happen. He had started to care too much for little Harry. And, if he was honest, he had cared for the big Harry too. He had always wanted to be his friend, and here was his chance. There had to be a way to keep Harry away from his relatives.

There was a small, niggling voice in the back of his head that told him there was more at play in Harry's life than just abuse, but Draco pushed it away. He couldn't fix things if he didn't know what they were. He would weasel it out of Harry once he was re-aged, than tackle those problems. Harry's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"Will you read this to me?"

Draco nodded, and took the book from Harry. Sitting down, he drew Harry into his lap, and started the story of Helga and the Unicorn. He started his story, and smiled when he noticed Harry was asleep by the time he finished the second page.

Yes, he would save Harry, and nobody, not his parents, not Dumbledore, not even the Dark Lord, would stand in his way. This time, he would show Harry how good a friend he could be, instead of being a stuck-up snob who took his jealousy of Harry's friends out on him. He was sure his year mates would help him. Hell, his whole house would probably help him. The only question that remained was how…

A/N: thanks to my fantastic beta Logical Quirk


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Chapter six

When Snape's muttering stopped, Ron hoped for a moment that they had found Harry, but the faces of the people around him told him it was not so. He shared a quick look with Hermione, seeing the fear for Harry he felt reflected in her eyes.

"Well, it doesn't look like there is much we can do for now, so why don't we all just go to class," McGonagall said, pointedly looking at the students.

Ron wasn't happy when he left the Great Hall with Hermione, following the two Slytherins to Charms. He'd wanted to stay, help organize a search, do something, anything. He was so lost in thought that he almost yelped in surprise when Hermione suddenly pulled him into a dark alcove.

"We have to save Harry," she said, sounding just like she did when she was telling him to do his homework.

"I know," Ron said, "but how? We've got no clue where he is, and all attempts at tracking him have failed."

"We don't know where he is, but someone does," Hermione answered smartly.

Ron resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course there was someone who knew, because someone obviously took Harry. He knew that, but didn't see where Hermione was going with this.

"Oh, honestly, Ron, Wormtail! He was involved with Harry's de-aging," she said, exasperated.

Ron frowned. He still didn't see it. Hermione must have seen his confusion, because she calmed down a bit and explained.

"Death Eaters de-aged Harry; we know Wormtail was involved because they took the Map. I think Malfoy might have disturbed them before they could take Harry with them to Voldemort, so they had to get to him another way. Hence, Harry's disappearance today," Hermione said.

It sounded logical to Ron, but he did wonder why she didn't think Malfoy knew more. After all, he was a Death Eater son and had the easiest access to Harry. He said as much to Hermione.

"It's simple, even if Malfoy wanted to harm Harry, and I'm not so sure about that anymore, he would've been too obvious. He would be the first suspect, and they can't have him involved because of that. Now, are you coming with me to find Wormtail?" she said, clearly getting annoyed with his questions.

Although Ron agreed with her on the fact that Malfoy wasn't likely to be involved, he wasn't so sure it was a good idea to go out looking for a known Death Eater, but he knew Hermione would do it anyway. Once she had an idea in her head, she wouldn't be stopped, no matter what. It was really not a contest; he was going with her. He didn't intend to lose a second friend today.

"Lead the way," he said.

They went through the tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack, and from there took the Knight Bus. Hermione spun a story about her Muggle grandmother being in the hospital, and needing to get to London as quickly as possible, and Dumbledore telling them to take the Knight Bus. Stan believed her, as she was a friend of Harry Potter. For once, Ron was glad to be seen as such.

They excited the Knight Bus in front of the Leaky Cauldron.

"You know, getting past Tom won't be as easy. How are we going to do that?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Really, you think that we're going to go hunting Death Eaters looking like ourselves? We'll disguise ourselves with glamours before going into the Leaky Cauldron," she told him.

Ron couldn't help but think this sounded way too easy, but Hermione was already walking to a dark alleyway, so he quickly followed her.

"Do you really think this is a good idea? Maybe we should just go to Dumbledore, he could get somebody from the Order to do this. Tonks perhaps, she's an Auror and a Metamorphmagus, surely she could do a better job?" Ron said.

Hermione turned around so fast that Ron had to take a step backwards to avoid getting slapped in the face by her hair.

"And then what? Hearing, once again, that Death Eaters couldn't possibly come into the school for such a thing, forgetting completely Quirrell and Crouch? Getting a watch on our tail so we can't do a thing to help Harry, because of course grown ups know so much better, forgetting that every time in the past five years we've been in real trouble, no adults who would actually listen where there? And when they listen, they do it way too late! Do you want to lose Harry because of that? Do you?" Hermione screamed.

Ron swallowed heavily. He hated to admit it, but Hermione had a point. He still didn't think it was a good idea, but he didn't want to risk Harry's life either.

"No, I don't want to lose Harry. You're right, we're always in this with the three of us, and we will be now too," Ron told her.

Hermione nodded, and wiped a few stray tears away from her face with the back of her hand.

"Let's do this," she said, and started casting spells on Ron.

A middle-aged man with brown hair and brown eyes walked into Knockturn Alley. His companion, a slightly younger female, with black hair and brown eyes, followed closely behind. They weaved their way through the crowd of people. Business in Knockturn Alley had increased ever since the return of the Dark Lord had been made public, Dark wizards less afraid to be caught out in the open.

Ron got a glance at Hermione and himself in one of the few clean windows in the Alley. It really was a fine piece of spellwork Hermione had performed. He didn't understand it, and probably never would, but apparently she'd adjusted some cosmetic charms to change their hair and eye colors and used a simple glamour to make them look older.

Narrowly avoiding walking into a hag, who leered at him, Ron hurried to catch up with Hermione. He wished she wouldn't walk ahead without him, this was not the place to walk alone.

"So, now what? We can't just keep walking around until we see someone we know, you know. It would draw too much attention," he said softly to Hermione.

She nodded, and stopped in front of a store.

"I know, but…" her voice trailed off, but Ron had understood: she didn't know what else to do either.

"Maybe we should just go back," he suggested.

"Or maybe you shouldn't have come here in the first place," a male voice from behind him said.

Then, everything went black.

Ron slowly opened his eyes, moaning in pain. His head hurt, it was as if a Bludger had hit his head. All of a sudden, a rush of memories assaulted him and he shot up. Immediately he regretted it, as a sharp stab of pain shot through his head, but he couldn't care. Obviously, they had been captured, probably by Death Eaters. Either way, it wasn't good. He looked around in the dingy cell, but Hermione wasn't there with him. Fear gripped his heart. Where was she?

He sat in the half-dark for what felt like hours, although it could have been far shorter. He didn't know. He worried about Hermione and Harry. Would they be in a cell fo of their own?

Then, the door opened and light flooded into the cell. After his eyes had adjusted to the light, he could see a masked Death Eater standing in the door opening. Tendrils of fear spread around in him, but he refused to be cowed. He lifted his head up and glared at the Death Eater. The man just laughed.

"Well, well, well. Look at that, the blood traitor is awake. Did you honestly think such a puny disguise would be good enough to fool true wizards?" the man said.

Ron recognized the voice; it was the same man as in Knockturn Alley. Before he could make a retort, the man stepped aside and another Death Eater walked into the cell, dragging an unconscious Hermione behind him. He dumped her in the cell, then made his way out again. The door closed, but Ron couldn't have cared less. All he cared about was Hermione at the moment.

He quickly made his way to Hermione, and gasped when he got a good look at her. Her face was bruised, one of her eyes was already swelling shut. Her robes had been torn, and there was blood on them. She'd obviously been beaten, but Ron would bet the Death Eaters had used magical torture too. Knowing he could do nothing to help her, Ron lifted her head into his lap and settled in for a long wait.

Time slowed and quickened at the same time in the cell. Since there was no way to tell time, it could have been minutes or days when Hermione finally woke up. She moaned, and Ron stilled her movements with a soft hand on her shoulder. Immediately she tensed, but he was quick to reassure her.

"It's alright, 'Mione, you're safe. They brought you back to the cell," Ron said softly.

Hermione relaxed again, and opened the only eye she could. She gave Ron a small smile.

"You were right, the plan sucked," she said, her voice hoarse.

Ron gave a smile back.

"It's not the plan that sucked, just a part of the implementation," he answered.

"Why, such big words, Ron," Hermione said playfully, then giggled.

Ron smiled, glad to see she was still herself. They were both quiet for some time, until Hermione broke the silence with a soft question.

"We're never going to get out of here, are we?"

Ron looked down, into her face, and saw the fear there. He knew there was little chance of rescue, but he wasn't going to tell her that. No, he was going to have to be the strong one.

"Of course we are, we just have to have a little bit of patience. The teachers must know that we're gone, and Dumbledore will find out what happened to us soon. Then he'll send the Order to rescue us," he told her.

He could see she was comforted by his words, but some of the fear still lingered in his eyes. He hated seeing it there, and figured some distraction would make it go away.

"What you should really fear is my mother," Ron said.

He could see Hermione's confusion, and had to suppress a smile.

"She'll be so angry when she finds out what we've done, and she's a lot scarier when she's angry than all of the Death Eaters combined!" he said.

Hermione laughed at that, and Ron was glad his plan had worked. Now all he had to do was keep her distracted as long as possible. Maybe that would keep him distracted also.

Ron was hungry and cold. So was Hermione, and they sat huddled close together in a corner of the cell. Ron shifted, and hissed when one of his lacerations opened again. He hurt all over, courtesy of a session with the Death Eaters. Hermione look at him with concern, but he just shook his head. There was nothing she could do to help.

Suddenly, the cell was once again flooded in light as the door opened. A Death Eater stood in the door opening, and Ron felt Hermione tense beside him. But, the Death Eater didn't move, other than to look upon them. Ron felt confused; shouldn't the man do something?

"What do you want," Ron said scathingly.

Being a prisoner didn't mean he was just going to lay down and take anything they dished out. Which was how Ron had got the lacerations on his body; he had seen fit to tell one of the Death Eaters he stank out of his mouth. The Death Eater hadn't been amused.

"Can you walk?" the Death Eater asked.

Ron recognized the drawling voice immediately as that of the elder Malfoy. How had the bastard escaped Azkaban?

"Malfoy," Hermione said icily.

"Yes, yes, I know, you don't like me. Now shall we go, or do you want me to leave you here? Because I won't be discovered here just because the two of you refused to move," Malfoy said.

Ron, however, wasn't planning on making it any easier for the bastard to do whatever he wanted to do to them.

"We're not going anywhere with you," he said.

"Fine, I'll just have to explain to Harry, once he is re-aged, that his friends didn't want me to free them. What a pity," Malfoy said.

Apparently that was too much for Hermione, as she flew at Malfoy with a howling shriek.

"What did you do to Harry, you bastard, where is he?" she shrieked.

Malfoy had Hermione's wrists in a firm grip, but she was still trying to kick him. At first, Ron was cheering Hermione on in his mind, then he abruptly realized what Malfoy had said.

"Wait, what did you mean, free us?" Ron asked.

Ron could almost see the sneer on Malfoy's face as he answered, even though the man wore a mask.

"Because Dumbledore asked me to, seeing as he was at my Manor when the message from Hogwarts came that the two of you had been captured by Death Eaters. And before you ask, he was there because Harry was found at my Manor, and no, I have no idea how he came to be there," Malfoy said.

Hermione had calmed down upon hearing Dumbledore's name, and now hung limply against Malfoy. Ron's mind was overflowing with information, but two things made it to the forefront of his mind. The first being that Harry was found and apparently alright. The second that Malfoy was there to free them.

"Well, now that we're all on the same page, let's leave, shall we?" Malfoy said.

Ron couldn't help but agree.

After Malfoy had led them out of the manor they had been held in, which they later found out was owned by Blaise Zabini's mother, he'd brought them to the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. It was the first time ever Ron was glad for the fact that Madam Pomfrey tended to forbid visitors the first twenty-four hours, for he was sure both his mother and McGonagall were just waiting for an opportunity to lecture them.

He turned on his side, looking at Hermione sleeping in the bed beside him. Even with some of the bruises still visible on her face, she was beautiful. He loved her, he knew that, had known it for a while now. But, he'd never had the courage to ask her out. However, this experience had taught him one thing. It wasn't a good thing to procrastinate on important things, for you never knew when it would be to late. So, in the silence of the Hospital Wing, he made a vow to ask Hermione out as soon as Harry was re-aged. There was no use in asking right away, because Hermione would say no as long as Harry was still five. He knew her well enough to predict that reaction. He just wished he knew her well enough to know whether she would say yes when Harry was back to his right age. Ron closed his eyes and pictured Hermione and him on a date in Hogsmeade.

When Ron opened his eyes again, it was to the face of his mother, while light streamed through the windows. His mother looked drawn and worried, like she hadn't slept all night, which was probably true.

"Oh Ronald, thank Merlin you're awake," his mother said. "Your father and I were so worried about you, especially when we heard you were captured by Death Eaters. Are you all right? Are you in pain? Do I need to call for Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, Mum, I'm fine," Ron said.

"Good, then I can safely say, what the hell were you thinking!" Molly screeched out the last part.

Ron had known the tirade was coming, but it was still a scary sight to see. His mother was gearing up for a long tirade, and Ron wished for a second he had said he was still in pain.

"Walking around in Kockturn Alley, and not only that, but actually going out to look for Death Eaters! Not to mention the fact that we have enough on our minds, what with Harry being five. I can't believe you acted so childish, doing something so stupid," Molly screamed. "And then Lucius Malfoy of all people rescues you, have you any idea what that will mean for us? We owe a life debt to the Malfoy family. And why Dumbledore allows Lucius Malfoy to walk around here, instead of throwing him in Azkaban where he belongs. I'm certain he's got something to do with you getting captured."

Suddenly, Ron had enough. He was always treated like a three year old, and his mother always thought she knew better. Probably for the first time in his life, Ron saw that his mother wasn't perfect.

"Mum, that's enough," he said forcefully.

His mother stopped her tirade mid-sentence, completely surprised by the outburst from her son.

"First of all, what was I supposed to do? Let Hermione go alone to look for Death Eaters? Because she would have, and you know it. I tried to talk her out of it, but when that failed I made the decision to follow her. And it is my decision, because I'm not a child anymore," Ron said, determined but calm.

His mother, in the meanwhile, had seated herself, and seemed to be actually listening.

"As for Lucius Malfoy, I don't know how he got out of Azkaban, but I'm glad he did," Ron said.

He saw his mother tried to interrupt, but he didn't let her. He was going to say this all, before he lost the nerve.

"Yes, I'm glad, because both Hermione and I would be dead now, if it wasn't for him. And he risked his life to save us. I don't care what he's done in the past, he's on our side now, and that's good, because it means Voldemort has lost a valuable Death Eater," Ron said, without even pausing at Voldemort's name. "You see things so black and white, Mum, and this year I've discovered it's not so clear-cut as you've always said. Draco's a Malfoy, and you taught us Malfoys are no good, but he's taken care of Harry, and that is good. And Mister Malfoy saved my life. And Percy, who you've always held up as a paragon of goodness, he's abandoned the family. While the twins, who could do no good in your eyes most of the times have a very successful business. But you don't see that, you just see that they've left school. I love you, but I wonder who's the real child here, Mum."

And with those words, Ron got up out of bed to check on Hermione, leaving his mother sitting in the chair by his bed, totally stunned by the words of her youngest son.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven

Chapter seven

Draco tucked the sleeping Harry in bed. For a moment, he reflected how weird it was to have a five-year-old Harry Potter asleep in his bed. But then he shook himself out of his thoughts. There would be time to contemplate things later; he needed to figure out what to do now. He only had until his father came back, then the questioning would begin, and this time his father wouldn't rest until he had the whole truth. And once that happened, Harry would be re-aged and all plans would have to be ready, so Harry could be told. Draco hoped it would be enough to keep Harry from killing himself.

"First things first," Draco muttered to himself.

Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill, he sat himself at his desk to compose a letter to Theo, Blaise, Pansy, and all other Slytherins that might want to help, requesting information. He told them the whole truth; at this point it didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was keeping Harry safe once he was re-aged. Sealing the letter, he called for a house-elf.

"Dibbo, send this letter off with an owl, then keep watch over Harry. Notify me immediately if he awakens," Draco told the elf.

"Yes, Young Master Malfoy," the elf said, and popped off with the letter.

With a last look at Harry, Draco left the room to go to the library. If there was a loophole to be found concerning guardianship, it would be there.

Thirty minutes later, Draco was sitting on the ground in between piles of books. Some of them were open, others just stacked on top of each other. Draco was paging through the most promising books, but in each book he found something in, there was some criteria he didn't meet. The main problem seemed to be that he, too, was underage. Most solutions were meant for godparents, but Harry didn't have any, not anymore. Then there were solutions that could be used by a blood-relative, but all blood-relatives that would have been close enough to use the solutions were dead. In frustration, Draco threw the book he was currently reading aside.

"Really, Draco, must you abuse the books in such a fashion," his mother scolded him.

Draco turned around, startled.

"Mum," he said.

His mother picked up the book he'd thrown away.

"Amendments to the guardianship laws?" she asked. "Are you trying to get yourself emancipated?"

The hurt in her voice was like a stab in Draco's heart.

"No!," he said. "Why would you think that?"

His mother shook her head.

"I couldn't think of another reason, and with your father's affiliations…" She trailed off.

Draco gave his mother a smile.

"No, Dad and I already talked about that. He's not going back."

His mother sat down on the sofa by the fire, patting the seat next to her. Draco sat down next to her, and allowed her to pull him into a hug. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling the urge to cry.

"Why don't you tell me what this is all about," his mother said softly. "Maybe I can help."

Draco pulled himself from the hug reluctantly, and looked in his mother's eyes, searching. Would she really help him? Even with this? Did he even have a choice?

"It's for Harry," he said.

His mother raised an eyebrow in question, but stayed silent.

"He's the one who got father out of jail, we made a deal. He wrote a letter, telling the Minister that my Dad had been spying for him, and to let him out of Azkaban on some technicality. In return, I brewed him a de-aging potion. When we'd made the switch, he drank it," Draco said in a rush.

His mother was clearly shocked, but she urged him to continue.

"Then, just now, Dad and I found out he'd been abused, really bad, at five years of age. Mum, he thinks magic is bad, and that he's a freak! And then I thought, if that's how they treated him at five, then how bad would it be now that he's sixteen and going to a magical school? And the worst part is, I let it slip to Dad that he'd de-aged himself. Which means they are going to brew the re-aging potion, which only takes two weeks," Draco said.

His mother nodded her understanding. He could see she was shocked and horrified with what he had just told her.

"Mum, I'm afraid he'll kill himself if he's re-aged, if he still has to go back to those, those animals," Draco said, pained and angry at the same time. "I've been trying to find a way to get him out from under their guardianship, but I haven't been able to find anything yet."

His mother pulled him back into a hug. Draco clung to her as though she was his life-line.

"Don't worry, we'll find a way," she whispered in his ear.

Draco almost sagged with relief: she was going to help him.

Draco looked aghast at number four Privet Drive, home of Harry Potter.

"It's so, so…" Draco choked on his words, not even knowing how to describe the house.

"I know," was all his mother said.

They'd Apparated to Privet Drive in search of as much damning evidence as they could. Draco wasn't too happy with leaving Harry behind, but his mother insisted that the evidence they would find could make or break their plans, so he'd acquiesced.

"It doesn't seem that anybody is home, which will benefit our cause. This way we can search the house thoroughly before questioning them," his mother said.

Draco just nodded his head. He was feeling quite nervous all of a sudden. He didn't know if it was because he'd be finding out a lot more about the abuse, or if it was because he was afraid of Harry's reaction once he found out that Draco Malfoy, of all people, knew _everything_. Silently, he followed his mother into the despicable house.

"Do not leave my side, you're still not allowed to use any magic, so you can't defend yourself properly," his mother commanded.

With a nod of his head, Draco showed he understood. His mother surveyed the hallway they were in, of which the walls were littered with photographs.

"Not one of them is of Harry, he's not even in the family photographs," his mother remarked. "Not that such a thing is a surprise, considering what we already know. But still, it's one more mark against them."

His mother made to move to the living room, but Draco stopped her with a hand on her arm. He was staring at the door of the cupboard under the stairs, thinking back to the rumors that had been flying rampant through Slytherin House in his first year.

"What is it, Draco?" his mother asked.

"The cupboard, there were rumors." Draco had to swallow. He'd never believed any of the rumors, but now? "There were rumors that it was his room."

Narcissa opened the door of the cupboard, and gasped in shock. Draco came closer, and looked into the cupboard. A small mattress was on the floor, some broken toys were hidden away in a corner, and a couple of children's drawings were taped to the back wall. Draco's mind reeled with the new revelations. The rumors had been true. What else was true? What else had happened without anyone ever knowing? His mother took a step back, her face an emotionless mask, which told Draco that his mother was deeply disturbed by the findings. She snapped a couple of pictures of the cupboard, both open and closed, with the magical camera they'd taken with them. Those pictures alone could probably convict the Muggles, but it wasn't enough if Dumbledore stepped in to sweep everything under the rug.

The search through the living room and kitchen was fast, and held no surprises. The next unpleasant revelation came when they came upstairs. There were four bedrooms. Four! Draco was furious. They could've easily given Harry a room, their own son wouldn't have even had to share. It was just outrageous. And the cat flap on the door of Harry's new room, obvious from the many locks on the door, was just one more thing.

Fifteen minutes later, they'd combed through the entire house. The evidence against the Muggles was overwhelming, and they decided not to wait for the Muggles to show up. Draco thought his mother muttered something about not wanting to kill them yet, and he couldn't agree more. Alive, with a vial of Veritaserum, in front of the Wizarding World would be much more fun. They were sure to be lynched for hurting the Chosen One. It was a nice fantasy, but Draco knew it would probably never happen. Truthfully, as long as he could get Harry out of their claws, he couldn't care less what would happen to the Muggles.

Outside, Draco looked at his mother despondently.

"It's not going to be enough, is it?" he said.

"No, even with all of this evidence, this case will never even get to court. Not with Dumbledore interfering, and he will. But we will find a way," his mother said.

Once they were back in the Manor, the first thing Draco did was check in with Dibbo to see if Harry was still asleep, which he was. After reaffirming his orders of getting notified immediately when Harry awakened, Draco and his mother walked to the library.

"So, now what do we do? Keep searching the books?" Draco asked his mother.

His mother shook her head.

"No, there are just too many books about laws and such to do that. We will need to know what we are looking for before we start looking," she said, while sitting down.

Draco threw his hands into the air.

"That's all fine and well, but we don't know what we are looking for, now do we?" he sneered.

"Draco Malfoy, do not take that tone with me," his mother told him, her voice dangerously soft.

Draco sat down opposite from her with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, mother," he said. "It's just that I feel like time is running out, and we are nowhere near a solution."

"I understand, Draco, but you must still mind your manners. Now, why don't we look at this logically? We need a way to transfer guardianship to someone else. There are no blood-relatives, nor are there any godparents. A lawsuit will not help us. Besides, Harry Potter in the system is just asking for him to be killed. So, what else do we have as options?" his mother said.

"We could hide him?" Draco suggested.

His mother shook her head, and Draco sighed. He knew it would never work; the whole Wizarding World would be out looking for them if they did that. They'd never be able to stay hidden.

While his mother was still pensive, thinking of possible solutions and discarding them as soon as she formulated them, Draco walked over to the window. He knew there was no legal option, and illegal ones weren't feasible either. It was hopeless, and he had never felt so powerless. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoys could do anything they wanted. That was what his father had always told him. But it seemed this time, he couldn't do what he wanted most, which was to help Harry.

"A fine friend I make indeed," he muttered sarcastically.

Unexpectedly, a house-elf stood before him.

"Is Harry awake?" he asked, already beginning to walk towards the door.

"No, Young Master Malfoy, yous is having letter," the elf said.

Grabbing the letter, he tore into it as soon as he saw Theo's handwriting on the envelop.

_Dear Draco,_

_Of course we will help you, you do__lt! And 'we' means all of Slytherin house. Pansy, Blaise and I were all shocked to hear your story, and called a house-meeting. We left Snape out of it, and as far as we know, he hasn't discovered it. That had something to do with the fact that he is currently not at Hogwarts, I'm sure. Anyway, we all decided to help._

_Some of us went to the library, and we combed through all of the books. Nothing could be found about changing guardianship, at least, nothing useful. We did compile a huge file that could be used when this gets to court, if it ever gets that far. Pansy even wanted to research helping abuse victims, but there was nothing about that in the Hogwarts library._

_I'm sorry we couldn't be of more help. Let us know if we can do anything, and I do mean anything. We've adopted Harry as one of us, and you know what that means._

_Sincerely,_

_Theo_

Reading through the letter, Draco was disappointed. He'd hoped for something, anything, although he knew it would have been very unlikely. He did smile a bit about the fact that Harry was now adopted into Slytherin House. Then, he gasped. Of course, that was it.

"An adoption!" he shouted.

His mother immediately stood up and started to go though some books. A legal adoption wouldn't work, but there might be other, older forms. Maybe there was a loop-hole somewhere. Anything was fine, as far as Draco was concerned. Draco was just about to go and help here, when a house-elf interrupted him yet again. This time though, it was Dibbo.

"Young Master Malfoy, Dibbo is telling you that little-wizard-boy is awakenings, Sir," Dibbo told Draco.

"Go to Harry, Draco, I'll search the books," his mother said.

Draco didn't argue; he wanted to help, but he also wanted to see Harry. He wanted to reassure himself that Harry was safe, at least for the moment.

When he reached his room, Harry was just struggling to sit up in the big bed.

"Hey, had a nice nap?" Draco asked.

Harry yawned and nodded. He rubbed his little fists into his eyes, still a bit sleepy. Draco picked him up.

"So, what do you say, you want to get back to looking at those books again?" Draco said, wanting to go and aide his mother, but also wanting to keep an eye on Harry.

Harry nodded and just snuggled up to Draco, putting his head on Draco's shoulder and gripping Draco's robe in a tight fist. Draco walked back to the library, and coming there, he saw his mother sitting on the sofa, a book in her lap and a serene smile on her face. Draco almost sagged with relief; she'd found something.

Half an hour later, Harry sat on the floor between Draco's chair and the sofa Narcissa was sitting on, playing happily with some of the toys the house-elves had dug up from the attic for him. Narcissa had just finished telling Draco all about her plan, and Draco was digesting it. It could work, theoretically, but there were some points that had to be carefully considered.

"We will need father's cooperation. Do you think he'll go for it?" Draco asked.

"I'm sure he will, especially when I show him the evidence. Although from your story, it sounds as if he's enraged about the situation already," his mother said.

Draco nodded, she was right. His father had been angry when they'd discovered the abuse. But still, it wasn't just his father they were counting on. They also needed to keep it secret, and keep Harry with them at the Manor.

"How will we stop Dumbledore from taking Harry back to Hogwarts? How will we make sure that only we are present when Harry re-ages?"

"Dumbledore may pose a problem," his mother admitted. "But I think that with a little bit of Harry's help, we'll be able to convince Dumbledore that staying here is the way to go."

Draco frowned. He had no idea how Harry would be of help, but since his mother obviously had a plan, he decided to let that rest. His second question was more important anyway. If there were others present, the whole plan would fail.

"As for the re-aging, our potion will be done at least a couple of hours before Severus' potion. I've already started the brewing process, and Severus hasn't even started. And since Harry will already be here, we can feed him our potion before theirs is even finished. It's foolproof," his mother said.

"When did you start the potion?" Draco asked bewildered.

"As soon as I found the solution, of course," his mother said.

Of course, thought Draco sarcastically. But, he was glad his mother had thought of everything.

"Mother, are you doing this just to use Harry?" he asked, voicing his greatest fear.

His mother's eyes softened, and she smiled sadly at him.

"I cannot blame you for thinking that, I suppose. No, I'm not doing this just to use Harry. I will not deny that there are benefits for us, by doing this, but it is not the main reason," she said.

Draco looked down at his hands, feeling a little ashamed of having asked his mother that. But he had needed to know, for he wouldn't allow anyone to use Harry, not again. He startled when his mother put her hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, love, everything will work out. Our plan will succeed," she said, before leaving the library.

Draco looked down at Harry, who was still happily playing. As if feeling Draco's stare, Harry looked up and smiled brilliantly. Draco smiled back, and Harry went back to his play, softly humming some tune. Draco couldn't help but feel a bit proud that he had put that smile on Harry's face, that he was the only one Harry felt comfortable with. And he vowed he would keep that smile on Harry's face, even as a sixteen-year-old.

But, even though his mother had spoken comforting words, Draco was still worried. He hoped Harry would still accept him, still be his friend, when he was re-aged. He hoped his past behavior wouldn't cause Harry to distrust him. He hoped Harry would let him help. He feared the reactions of Harry's friends. He even feared Harry's reaction to the plan a bit, although he suspected Harry would jump at any chance to escape the Muggles.

A tug on his robes pulled him from his thoughts. Harry was looking at him with wide, innocent eyes, although there was still a shadow in those emerald orbs.

"Will you play with me, Draco?" Harry asked in a whisper, as if afraid of the answer.

Draco smiled.

"Of course," he said.

Getting down on his knees, he grabbed one of the toy dragons. And, as he and Harry played, his doubts fled his mind. At least for now, life was good.

A/N: thanks to my fantastic beta Logical Quirk


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Lucius stood in the shadow of the trees, just outside the wards that were around the manor. His mind was in turmoil. First the revelations about Harry Potter's past, then Draco's slip of the tongue. And now, he was here, at the request of Dumbledore. Apparently, the old man had decided he'd had a 'change of heart' and was now a 'fighter for the Light'. Lucius snorted. It was a ridiculous notion, but since it could be useful to be seen as such, he didn't correct the old coot. Which was the reason he was here now, to rescue those stupid Gryffindor friends of Harry. The main thing to accomplish was to be in and out without being detected. He had no wish to encounter the Dark Lord, and he wasn't going to risk himself for two idiots. With a last, lingering sigh, he walked through the wards. His Dark Mark prevented the alarms from going off, but even he wouldn't be able to Apparate out of the mansion, something he really wasn't comfortable with.

Ten minutes later, he'd located the cell in which the Gryffindors were kept. He opened the door. The two Gryffindors looked awful, the signs of torture visible on their bodies. A shocking revelation came to Lucius. Maybe they were so injured that they weren't able to walk. If that was the case, Lucius had no idea how to get them out of here without being seen.

"What do you want?" the Weasley boy said scathingly.

Lucius shuddered. No wonder the boy had been tortured so severely; with that attitude even Lucius wanted to smack him, and he was there to rescue the boy.

"Can you walk?" he asked them.

"Malfoy," the Granger girl said, distaste evident in her voice.

"Yes, yes, I know, you don't like me. Now shall we go, or do you want me to leave you here? Because I won't be discovered here just because the two of you refused to move," Lucius said, not in the mood for a lengthy discussion.

"We're not going anywhere with you," the Weasley boy said.

Lucius resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the stupidity of the boy. Fine; if he wanted to be left behind, he could have his wish. But then, green eyes, filled with tears came to the front of Lucius's mind. Could he explain to Harry that he'd left Harry's two best friends to die? Lucius knew the answer was no.

"Fine, I'll just have to explain to Harry, once he is re-aged, that his friends didn't want me to free them. What a pity," he said, sure it would get them to move.

It did, as the Granger girl flew at him, shrieking like a banshee. She was trying to scratch his eyes out, and he grabbed her hands tightly so she couldn't reach him.

"What did you do to Harry, you bastard, where is he?" she shrieked.

Lucius winced at the sound she produced. He was glad the dungeons were sound-proof.

"Wait, what did you mean, free us?" the Weasley boy asked. Lucius sneered. Really, did the boy discover that just now?

"Because Dumbledore asked me to, seeing as he was at my Manor when the message from Hogwarts came that the two of you had been captured by Death Eaters. And before you ask, he was there because Harry was found at my Manor, and no, I have no idea how he came to be there," Lucius said.

The Granger girl had calmed down, and now hung limply in Lucius' arms. It seemed they had decided to trust them.

"Well, now that we're all on the same page, let's leave, shall we?" Lucius said.

Lucius sat in the parlour, Narcissa and Draco sat on the opposite couch. Dumbledore and Severus had gone back to Hogwarts, to check on the two Gryffindors. Dumbledore would come back later that evening to pick up Draco and Harry. Draco had just told him all about the deal he'd made with Harry.

"So Harry Potter got me out of Azkaban?" Lucius asked, dumbfounded.

Draco nodded. Well, it seemed he owed Harry a big debt. Then, Narcissa attracted his attention. "We've devised a plan to help Harry," she said.

Lucius motioned for her to continue. She explained it all, and Lucius listened. When she was done, he stood and began pacing.

"Do you realise what this will entail?" he said.

Both Narcissa and Draco nodded.

"Dad, please," Draco said.

Lucius looked at his son, who was looking at him with pleading eyes. He then shifted his view to little Harry, who was quietly playing in the corner, with no idea that his future was the subject of the discussion. And, as if Harry had felt Lucius's look, he looked up and smiled. Lucius smiled back, and Harry, seemingly satisfied, went back to his playing.

"We'll have both sides out for our blood," Lucius remarked.

Draco gave a shout of triumph, and hugged him.

"You won't regret it, Dad, I promise," Draco said.

Lucius still had his doubts, but Harry's innocence and Draco's happiness convinced him he'd made the right decision. He only prayed to Merlin everything would work out.

Later that evening, Dumbledore stepped out of the Floo. Lucius was already waiting for him.

"Good evening, Lucius," Dumbledore said cheerfully.

"Good evening, Albus," Lucius answered. "We need to talk about some things."

Dumbledore nodded his consent, and Lucius led him to his study. There, he offered Dumbledore a seat.

"Well, what is the subject we are to be discussing tonight?" Dumbledore asked.

Lucius shuddered inside. By Merlin, did the man have to be so bloody cheerful all the time?

"Actually, there are two subjects," Lucius said, "the first being my release from Azkaban."

Lucius saw Dumbledore take on a more alert posture. Clearly, the man wanted to know how and why he'd been released. Lucius paused for a second, until he saw a flash of impatience in Dumbledore's eyes. He so loved to torture that man.

"I was released because I am, or rather was, a spy for Harry Potter," Lucius said.

He sat back to watch the effect of that piece of information. Dumbledore looked shocked for a second, but quickly recovered.

"Really?" was all he said.

Lucius nodded.

"Of course, I cannot, in good conscience, tell you more about our deal without Harry present. But I will tell you that he managed to send a letter to the Ministry, just before he was de-aged, that asked them to release me on a minor technicality, because I was working for him. It was signed in blood, I've heard. I'm sure you can check that at the Ministry," Lucius said.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful.

"Then, I suppose, you might be interested in joining the Order?" Dumbledore said.

"I will consider it," was all Lucius would say.

He wasn't stupid enough to make any promises. After the plan, he would decide what to do now his position in the war had been so drastically changed.

"You said there were two subjects to talk about?" Dumbledore enquired.

"Yes, the second is a bit of information I came across during my rescue mission. It seems Harry was de-aged by a standard de-aging potion, and before you ask, I don't know how it was done," Lucius said, setting the plan into motion.

"Well, that's wonderful," Dumbledore said with twinkling eyes. 'I'll get Severus to brew the de-aging potion. Splendid, splendid."

"Yes, indeed. But I would recommend keeping Harry, and subsequently Draco, here for the duration of the brewing. I fear Hogwarts is just a bit too much for Harry at his current age," Lucius said. "Of course, if Draco's assignments are owled to him, he'll complete them and will owl them to his professors," Lucius said.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful, but Lucius knew he was trying to determine of he trusted him. Lucius waited with bated breath, although he didn't show any outward signs of this, for the entire plan rested on Harry staying at Malfoy Manor.

"Well, if Draco keeps up his grades, I don't see why they couldn't stay here for the time being. After all, it's only two weeks," Dumbledore answered.

Lucius was relieved; the part of the plan that was most likely to fail had worked. After a few more minutes of small talk, Dumbledore announced he had to get back. After shaking hands, Dumbledore left by Floo. Not even a minute later, Draco entered Lucius' office.

"And?" Draco said.

"The both of you may stay until Harry is re-aged," Lucius said.

"Thank Merlin," Draco said, sitting down.

Lucius smiled; his son had been really worried about getting Dumbledore's permission.

"You really care about Harry, don't you?" Lucius said.

Draco looked at him warily, but Lucius just smiled back. He didn't mean to reproach his son with the question, he was just curious.

"Yeah, I do," Draco said softly. 'I've always wanted to be his friend, but he rejected me, because of how I acted. But this, this is my chance. I can show him I really can be a good friend. I will show him I'm a good friend."

The next day, Draco sent a letter to his fellow Slytherins, telling them everything would work out and that both Harry and he would be back to school in two weeks.

Lucius sent off a letter to the goblins of Gringotts, asking them to open up a new trust-vault, equal the size of Draco's trust-vault, and put it in the name of Harry Potter.

Narcissa sent off a letter to her tailor, sending in an order of an entire wardrobe, approximating Draco's size. She also ordered the house-elves to clean up and redecorate the room next to Draco's. It was redone in a Quidditch theme, and little Harry loved it.

The next two weeks flew by, with all three Malfoys trying to give little Harry as many happy memories as they could. Lucius still remembered the day he took Harry to see his Aethonons with great fondness. Draco had never had much love for the animals, being scared of most of the bigger ones. Harry on the other hand, had fallen completely in love with the winged, chestnut-coloured horses the moment he saw them. Lucius had lifted him up to pet one of them and later had put the boy on the back of one of the tamest. After a short ride, with Lucius holding him, walking alongside, Harry's eyes had shone bright with happiness, and Lucius had promised him that he'd teach Harry how to ride when he was bigger.

But those days had passed, and it was the night before the big day. Lucius lay awake, worried about all the little details that could go wrong. They only had a time-frame of two hours to implement the plan. With a final sigh, he grabbed a sleeping potion. He would need to be rested tomorrow.

The next day, Lucius ordered the house-elves to clean the entire ballroom, top to bottom. It was the place in which Narcissa had decided the ritual was to take place. Thinking of Narcissa, he went down to the potions lab. Narcissa was stirring the re-aging potion.

"Everything going well?" Lucius asked.

"Yes, yes, fine," Narcissa said distracted.

Lucius smiled. He was no good with potions, but her skills could probably rival Severus's. Draco had inherited her talent. Seeing his wife had everything under control, he went upstairs again. A peek in the library showed Draco reading to Harry. Lucius sighed. Draco would've made a great big brother. Unfortunately, Narcissa had been unable to conceive other children after she had had Draco. Leaving the two, Lucius set out to the ballroom. When he got there, he saw the house-elves were done with the cleaning. A couple of flicks with his wand, and Lucius had everything set up. Now it was a question of waiting.

Finally, the clock struck five, the potion was ready. It was already dark outside, so the curtains in the ballroom were closed. Floating candles illuminated the room, which was empty save for a small table. On the table a cup of water and a knife with a black handle were placed.

Lucius entered the room with Draco and Harry. They were waiting for Narcissa to bring the potion. Lucius was nervous, he'd been nervous the entire day. Somehow, he felt it was all going too easy. He'd expected some trouble, but none had appeared. He looked at his son, who was entertaining Harry with a story. Draco, too, was worried, judging by the tone in his voice.

The soft steps of Narcissa heralded her arrival. She entered the ballroom with a cup in her hand.

"It's finished," she said.

"Are you sure we are doing the right thing?" Lucius asked.

Draco looked up, alarmed. Narcissa placed the cup gently on the table.

"What do you mean?" she asked him.

"I just think everything is going too smoothly. I was expecting more resistance from Albus, and today, I've walked around with a feeling of dread. We are risking everything," Lucius said. "If something goes wrong…"

Narcissa walked over to him and hugged him. Lucius relaxed a bit in her arms.

"Don't worry, Lucius," she whispered in his ear. "Everything is going to be all right."

Lucius sighed. Narcissa was so full of confidence, but he wasn't. If something went wrong, his family would be ruined. They'd probably be chucked into Azkaban, or worse. It didn't bear thinking about. Neither did Harry's fate if this failed.

"Dad, we have to do this," Draco implored.

Lucius looked at his son. Somehow, his little boy had turned into a young man overnight. A strong, young man who was willing to stand up for what he believed in.

"And we will," Lucius said.

Narcissa released him, and picked up the cup again.

'Harry, honey, you need to drink this, all of it," Narcissa said, offering the cup to Harry.

But little Harry did not want to co-operate tonight. Perhaps he had bad memories about being offered something unidentifiable to drink, or the nervousness everyone was feeling was affecting him. Whatever it was, Harry backed away from Narcissa, his lips tightly pressed together, shaking no with his head. Narcissa didn't press, but motioned for Draco to try it. Draco pleaded, and begged, and bribed, but little Harry still refused to drink the potion. Draco looked up at Lucius, and the despair in his eyes were like a physical stab in the heart for Lucius.

"Harry, do you remember the Aethonons?" Lucius asked.

"Horsies!" Harry exclaimed.

Lucius smiled. No matter what he said, Harry insisted on calling his prized Aethonons horses.

"Yes, horses," Lucius said. "Do you remember I promised you I would teach you how to ride them?"

Harry nodded his head.

"Well, if you take the potion," Lucius said, "it will make you grow big so I can teach you."

Little Harry looked at Lucius with wide eyes. Then, his gaze shifted to Draco.

"It's true, Harry," Draco said. "The potion will make you big, just like me."

Narcissa held out the potion, and Harry cautiously took it from her hands. With a final look at Draco, Harry started to drink. When he finished it, the empty cup fell from his hands, clattering on the floor, as the potion began to work. Harry's body grew and changed. His robes, especially spelled for this occurrence, grew with him. Finally, Harry stopped growing. He fell down on his hands and knees, his breath coming out in harsh pants.

Draco made a move towards him, but Narcissa grabbed his arm to hold him back. Mutely, she shook her head. After a few more moments, Harry looked up. His eyes were wet, hurt and betrayal etched on his face. His eyes locked with Draco's.

"Why," he whispered. "Why did you have to tell?"

Draco had tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I didn't mean to, honest," Draco said.

Harry stood up.

"Why couldn't you all just let me be!" he suddenly screamed.

"Harry, please, we want to help," Draco said. "Please, let us help you. We have a plan, it'll work. You just have to let us help you."

"Why would you want to help me?" Harry said, sounding broken.

"Because I want to be your friend," Draco said. "Because I am your friend, Harry."

The haunted look in Harry's eyes gave Lucius the chills. He had the feeling there was much more going on than just the abuse. His feeling of dread returned.

"No, you're not my friend!" Harry shouted. "All of my friends die!"

Then, as if in slow motion, Lucius saw Harry move. He took three steps, and grabbed the knife from the table. Lucius moved too, with outstretched arms, trying to grab Harry's wrists. But he was too late, and Harry plunged the knife into his stomach. Lucius was there just in time to catch him as he fell. Dimly, he heard Draco scream in the background.

"Please," Harry whispered broken, "just let me go. I don't want to go back, I can't go back. Please…"

Lucius, in the meanwhile, was busy casting spells on Harry.

"I am not going to let you die," Lucius said. "You are not going back, we won't let you, but you are not dying either, do you hear me!"

The knife was pulled out, and blood gushed out of the wound. Lucius began casting spell after spell to stop the blood flow and heal the internal damage.

"You are not dying, you hear me, Harry. We have a plan, and you're not mucking it up by dying on me! Did you think we have gone to all this trouble to just send you back? Well think again," Lucius said, still casting spells.

Harry was lying still on the ground, very pale, his eyes closed. Lucius's spell-casting became more frantic.

"Don't you dare die. I've still got to teach you how to ride a Aethonon," Lucius exclaimed.

In the background, there was crying.

A/N: thanks to my fantastic beta Logical Quirk


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Draco was sitting on the floor in the library, playing with Harry, when his mother entered.

"Your father's home, and our guests have left," she told him. "Now would be a good time to tell your father. If you can take Harry to the parlour, we'll see you there."

Draco nodded, and turned back to little Harry.

"Let's pack up your toys, Harry," he said, reaching for some of the stuffed animals.

"No," Harry burst out. "Please, I'll be good, I promise. Please let me keep one of them, please, I'll be good."

Big tears rolled down little Harry's face and he clutched a stuffed unicorn against his chest. Draco was shocked. He'd only meant to pack up the toys so he could take them with Harry to the parlour. Obviously, Harry thought he was taking them away for good. He pulled the still crying and pleading boy on his lap.

"Harry, listen to me," he said softly. "You are a good boy, and I am _not_ taking away your toys. We're just going to pack them up so we can take them with us to the parlour. You can play with them there, all right?"

Harry had calmed down, and nodded his consent. Quickly, Draco packed up the few toys, although he let Harry keep the unicorn with him. Pointedly, he refused to think about what Harry's reaction meant.

A few minutes later, Harry was once again happily playing on the floor of the parlour. Draco was sitting next to his mother, while his father sat opposite of them. Draco started the story by telling his father about the meeting with Harry, the deal they had made, and the exchange and what happened right after it. Once he had told it all, he fell silent.

"So Harry Potter got me out of Azkaban?" his father said, sounding bemused.

Draco nodded. He had no clue how his father was taking this all, and didn't trust his voice at the moment, he was too nervous. His father's approval of the plan was necessary, or they couldn't put it into action.

"We've devised a plan to help Harry," his mother said.

She then explained the plan to his father, while Draco anxiously tried to read his father's face. It proved to be impossible, his father was giving nothing away. Once Narcissa was done with her story, his father stood and began pacing. Draco relaxed a bit, but not much. Pacing meant his father was thinking it over, which was better than saying 'no' outright, but it could still turn into a 'no'. And that would be disastrous, because once his father said no, it hardly ever changed into yes.

"Do you realise what this will entail?" Lucius asked.

Draco nodded, and he saw his mother do the same. Still, he wasn't sure it was enough to convince his father.

"Dad, please," Draco said.

He didn't plead often; in fact, his father had taught him that Malfoys never pleaded, nor begged, but Draco rather thought the situation called for an exception to this rule. He locked eyes with his father, allowing his plea to be seen on his face. His father broke the gaze to look at Harry, who was playing contently on the floor. Harry smiled, and Lucius smiled back.

"We'll have both sides out for our blood," Lucius said.

Draco's heart soared – his father was agreeing! He gave a shout of triumph and happiness, and jumped up to hug his father.

"You won't regret it, Dad, I promise," Draco said.

The only answer his father gave was a hug back.

The next day, after Draco and Harry had breakfast with Draco's parents, Draco took Harry to the parlour. In the corner were the toys Harry had played with the night before. He'd fallen asleep while playing, so Draco had just carried him and his stuffed unicorn upstairs to bed. He watched now, as Harry happily grabbed some of the stuffed toys and started playing.

Thinking back to his own childhood, Draco remembered lots of toys. He'd had a toy broom and a toy wand, more stuffed animals than he could count, mythical creature figurines, a Merlin doll, several board games, and paints, just to name a few things. His mother, however, had given most of it away to charity when he grew too old, so all that was left for Harry to play with was five stuffed animals, three picture books and some parchment and crayons. Not that Harry saw that as being just a few toys, but Draco wanted to give him the best for the next two weeks. In his opinion, Harry deserved to be spoiled rotten for his second childhood.

"Harry, you stay here and play, all right? I'm just going away for a few minutes, and then I'll be back," Draco said to Harry, a plan forming in his mind.

Draco walked to his father's office, and knocked on the door. Almost immediately he was called to enter. When he did, his father looked up from his work.

"Draco," his father said, making it a question with his tone.

"Father, I think Harry should have more toys," Draco said, seeing no reason to beat around the bush.

"Well, we can always owl-order a few, I suppose. It's only two weeks though," his father answered.

"I know that, but I want him to have good memories this time around. Besides, I don't want to owl-order, I want him to go to a toy store and pick out whatever he likes. I'll bet he never got to pick out a toys, if he was even allowed to have toys," Draco said.

His father sighed.

"I can see why you would want that, but we can't go into Diagon Alley, or anywhere else in the Wizarding World, with him, you know that," Lucius said.

"I know, but we can take him into Muggle London, can't we? It's big, anonymous, nobody will recognise us there. Please, Dad?" Draco said.

With a last sigh, Lucius consented. Draco grinned, he knew he'd get his father to see it his way.

Ten minutes later, the entire Malfoy family, plus little Harry, had Apparated to a dark alley next to the Leaky Cauldron, all in transfigured Muggle clothing. Harry, who was perched on Narcissa's hip, looked around his new environment in amazement, while Lucius hailed a taxi.

"To the best toy store in London," he told the driver.

A short ride later, the taxi stopped in front of Hamleys, a big toy store. Lucius paid the driver, while Draco was babbling excitedly to little Harry about all of the wonderful toys. Inside the store, Draco told Harry he could pick out whatever he wanted.

"Really?" Harry asked, amazed.

"Really," Draco answered.

Harry wandered around the store for a bit, looking at everything, but never touching.

"Is there something you like?" Narcissa asked.

Harry bit his lip, and looked down. Narcissa put a finger under his chin and gently lifted his face up, so he was looking at her.

"You can tell me, you know," she said. "I won't laugh, and I won't be mad."

"I like the snake," he said, while pointing at a stuffed snake, with lots of green patches and a tail that really rattled.

Lucius picked it up.

"Good choice, Harry," he said. "It's really Slytherin."

Harry looked pleased, albeit a little confused.

"What's Slytherin?" he asked, tripping a bit over the word Slytherin.

Lucius smiled.

"It's a group of people who are like family when you go to school when you're older," he answered.

"Oh," Harry said.

He was quiet for a while, and Draco sensed he wanted to say something, but was afraid to do so.

"What is it, Harry?" Draco said, kneeling down so he was at eye level with Harry.

"Snakes aren't bad?" the little boy asked.

"No, why would you think that?" Draco said.

"There was a snake in the garden, I met her while I was weeding. She was really nice to me, she talked to me. But then Aunt Petunia found her talking to me, and she started screaming. Then Uncle Vernon came and he killed her. He said snake were bad, just as bad as I am," Harry said.

Draco was shocked. How cruel those people had been, and how much Harry had revealed with that little tale.

"No, sweetheart," Narcissa said, kneeling down also, "snakes aren't bad, and neither are you. Now, why don't you go and pick out ten toys. I know you can count to ten, so show me by picking out ten toys, all right?"

Harry nodded, and put his hand in Draco's. He talked excitedly about a red fire engine he'd seen, just as Dudley had gotten for his last birthday. He told Draco that Dudley had broken it within the week, but that he, Harry, wasn't allowed to play with it even after the toy was broken. Draco smiled and nodded, but inwards he was seething from anger. How those Muggles had treated Harry was worse than even the Dark Lord's treatment of his prisoners. No wonder some people wanted to wipe out all Muggles.

"It's a miracle he didn't join Him" Draco whispered to himself.

His father heard him.

"You're right, it is a miracle, one we should be thankful for. He's powerful, with him, the Dark Lord would've won before the war even started," his father whispered back, then focussed his attention on the colouring book Harry was showing him.

Forty-five minutes later, Harry had picked out about twenty toys, and Draco had picked out even more than that. Lucius had paid the bill, and once outside and out of sight, Narcissa shrunk their purchases down. Making sure there were no Muggles around to see, they Apparated back to Malfoy Manor. There, they had lunch and Draco put Harry down for a nap.

Back in the parlour, he sat down next to his mother.

"What's the matter, honey?" Narcissa asked him

"I wanted to give him something nice, and instead all I accomplished was dragging up bad memories," Draco said dejectedly.

Narcissa pulled him into a hug.

"Oh, honey, you did give him a good time. Those things he told us, yes they were bad, but he's not sad about them anymore. He told them, because he trusts you, because he trusts us. He had fun this afternoon, memories or no memories," Narcissa said.

Draco wanted to believe her, he really did, but he found it hard to imagine that Harry had no problems with the things that had happened. He said as much to his mother.

"It hurt him at that time, and he knows it hurt then, but he's in a better place now, and that's what counts. Trust me, Draco, if you'll ask Harry when he's re-aged if he had fun this afternoon, he will tell you it was one of the best things he did while he was five the second time around," Narcissa said.

Draco sighed, he hoped his mother was right. Pulling away from the hug, he looked at his mother.

"This isn't all over when he re-ages, is it?" he asked.

"No, it's not. Harry will have a lot of problems, we only know a small part right now. We'll have to be there for him, help him trough," Narcissa said.

"Not to mention there is probably more going on then just the abuse," Lucius said from the doorway.

Draco looked at his father.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Harry's been abused his entire life. I can't imagine that it suddenly became so bad that he felt he had to do something so drastic, especially since he only has a few weeks next summer he has to spend there before he turns seventeen. There has to be something else that made him do something so drastic, but I'm afraid we won't find out what that is until we re-age him," Lucius said.

Draco nodded. His father was probably right. He remembered Harry's creepy behaviour in the meetings they'd had about the potion, and he remembered Weasley and Granger keeping an eye on him, always around, always watching. Had they known something, or merely suspected something? He'd have to ask them sometimes, providing they'd actually speak to him after the plan was executed, of course.

Then, a house-elf appeared.

"Master Harry is being waking, Young Master Malfoy," it told Draco, then disappeared again.

Putting his worries away, Draco stood up to go to Harry. He could worry another time; right now, he would focus on giving Harry the best two weeks of his life.

Two weeks had passed since Dumbledore had given his permission for Draco and Harry to stay at Malfoy Manor. Letters were sent out, and preparations were made. The day Harry would be re-aged, Draco spent playing with Harry, reading to Harry, and watching Harry. He felt nervous, antsy. He wondered if Harry could put their antagonistic past behind them, if Harry's friends could, and he hoped nothing would go wrong with the plan.

Five o'clock that afternoon, Draco, Harry, and Lucius gathered in the ballroom. While waiting for his mother to bring the potion, Draco told Harry a story. But he had difficulty keeping his attention focused on the story, as a weird kind of anxiousness churned in his stomach.

Then, his mother entered the room, potion in hand.

"It's finished," she said.

"Are you sure we are doing the right thing?" Lucius asked.

Draco looked up, alarmed. Surely his father wasn't backing out now? They were so close! Narcissa placed the potion on the table, next to the cup of water and the ritual knife.

"What do you mean?" she asked his father.

Draco waited with bathed breath for his father's answer.

"I just think everything is going too smoothly. I was expecting more resistance from Albus, and today, I've walked around with a feeling of dread. We are risking everything. If something goes wrong…" Lucius said.

'Oh Merlin, Dad's going to back out!' flashed through Draco's mind. His mother hugged his father, and whispered something in his ear.

"Dad, we have to do this," Draco almost begged.

His father looked at him, and Draco saw the resolve in his eyes. He relaxed; his father wasn't backing out, he wouldn't.

"And we will," Lucius answered his son.

Narcissa offered the potion to Harry, but he wasn't cooperating. Draco tried, but even he couldn't persuade little Harry to drink it. Eventually, Lucius managed to convince Harry to take the potion, and a few minutes later, Harry was once again sixteen. Draco wanted to go to him, help him up, but his mother stopped him. Impatient, Draco waited. After a few more moments, Harry looked up, straight at Draco. His eyes were full of pain and betrayal, and he was crying silently. Draco wanted to go to him, comfort him, but something in Harry's eyes had frozen Draco into place.

"Why," Harry whispered. "Why did you have to tell?"

Draco was crying too, now. The hurt in Harry's voice was like a physical blow.

"I didn't mean to, honest," Draco said.

Harry stood up.

"Why couldn't you all just let me be!" Harry screamed at the Malfoys.

"Harry, please, we want to help," Draco said, knowing that Harry needed to understand why they had re-aged him. "Please, let us help you. We have a plan, it'll work. You just have to let us help you."

Draco knew he was begging, but he didn't care.

"Why would you want to help me?" Harry asked, sounding broken.

Draco felt his own heart break at the tone in Harry's voice. In that moment, he would have given anything in the world to have his happy, little, five-year-old Harry in his arms again.

"Because I want to be your friend," Draco said. "Because I am your friend, Harry."

"No, you're not my friend!" Harry shouted. "All of my friends die!"

Draco wanted to tell him it wouldn't have to be so, but never got the chance. Harry suddenly grabbed the dagger that had been placed on the table for later, and plunged it into his stomach. Draco screamed, in his powerlessness to stop it. He fell to his knees, seeing how his father caught Harry before he hit the ground.

"Please," Harry whispered broken, "just let me go. I don't want to go back, I can't go back. Please…"

No, Draco wanted to scream, no, I'm not letting you go, but the words wouldn't come. His father was busy casting spells, talking, but Draco couldn't hear. All he could do was cry, and watch, and listen to the buzzing in his ears. Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes, his father stopped his spell casting. Harry groaned, and opened his eyes. Draco darted forward, and fell down on his knees next to Harry. He pulled Harry into his arms, cradling him against his chest.

"You stupid, stupid Gryffindor," Draco said, while Harry looked at him with confused green eyes. "There's no need for that, you're not going back. We're adopting you!"

Harry leaned back into Draco, and closed his eyes.

"That's never going to work," Harry said softly. "The Ministry…"

"Won't be able to interfere," Lucius interrupted. "Nobody will, as we're going to do a blood-adoption. It's obscure, and barely legal, but barely is enough. It's also irreversible. It will make you a Malfoy by blood, even though you'll still be a Potter too."

"Nobody can make me go back?" Harry asked, uncertain.

"Never," Lucius said.

"Will you do it?" Narcissa asked, coming to stand next to Lucius.

Harry nodded his head. Draco gave a little squeeze, and a big smile, as Harry looked up at him.

"It'll work out," Draco whispered to Harry, who seemed reassured.

Before Draco could say more, Lucius and Narcissa were kneeling on the ground next to him.

"We don't have much time left," Lucius said.

The ritual was quick, a drop of blood from a small cut in the finger from everyone present, dropped in the water that was in the cup, a lengthy chant by Lucius, and Harry drained the cup. The glow of magic surrounded the four for a moment, then it was gone. Narcissa kissed Harry on his forehead.

"Welcome to the family, Harry," Lucius said.

Draco planned to say something, but was prevented from doing so as the doors of the ballroom slammed open. Draco pulled Harry further into his embrace, shielding him.

"What is going on here?" thundered Albus Dumbledore's voice.

A/N: thanks to my fantastic beta Logical Quirk

A/N2: One more chapter to go in this story! And yes, it will have a sequel, where Harry will deal with his problems, being a part of the Malfoy family, Voldemort and much more!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

A/N: Before we start, I want to point all of you to /emerald.html where you will find the most wonderful picture of Harry and Lucius, depicting a scene from chapter four of this story.

Chapter 10

"What is going on here?" thundered Albus Dumbledore's voice as he entered the ballroom of Malfoy Manor.

Lucius Malfoy approached him, and answered back. The argument flared, as Snape got involved, but Ron wasn't following the words that were shouted by the adults. Instead, his only concern was for his friend, who was lying, re-aged, in Draco Malfoy's arms. There was a lot of blood on the floor, and on Harry's clothes.

Hermione had grabbed hold of his arm, and seemed to be standing only because of that grip. Carefully, so as not to be noticed by the still arguing adults, where it seemed to be the elder Malfoys against Dumbledore and Snape, Hermione and Ron made their way to Draco and Harry.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said softly, "are you all right?"

Harry didn't answer; in fact, he didn't even look at them. He had burrowed his face in Draco's chest and it didn't look like he was moving anytime soon.

"He's fine, for now," Malfoy said.

"He tried to kill himself," Ron stated.

Malfoy nodded, and pulled Harry a bit closer. For the first time, Ron saw that the protection Malfoy had seemingly felt for little Harry, extended to sixteen year old Harry too.

"Why?" Hermione asked, sounding half desperate, half sad.

Malfoy sighed, and whispered something in Harry's ear. Harry nodded, but still didn't look up.

"He was abused, badly, by those, those things," Malfoy choked out.

Ron sighed. He'd expected it, but still.

"He can't go back there," Ron said, although the silent 'he'll kill himself if he goes back' was heard by all.

"We won't let him go back," Hermione said forcefully.

"You're right," Malfoy said, "we won't. That's why we re-aged him before you came. We did a blood adoption."

Ron gasped.

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked. "Can the Ministry oppose it? Can Professor Dumbledore?"

"It's means he's a Malfoy now, no, and no," Malfoy answered.

Ron decided to elaborate a bit more, as it seemed Malfoy was either forgetting the fact that Hermione would have no idea what a blood adoption meant, or more likely, he didn't care.

"A blood adoption gives you two sets of biological parents. If a test was done to show Harry's parents, both James and Lily Potter as Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy would show up as his parents. That's why nobody can take him away; they're truly his parents," Ron said.

Hermione frowned. She got a look in her eyes that Ron recognised from many hours of studying together; she was connecting ideas together on a level that Ron knew he could never achieve. Then her eyes became a liquid storm, and Ron took a step backwards before he consciously recognised it as pure anger.

Hermione resolutely, and apparently very angrily, approached the adults, who where still fighting.

"You bastard!" Hermione screeched. "You absolute bastard!"

"Now, Miss Granger, I can assure you that I…" Lucius Malfoy started.

"Not you," Hermione interrupted, "him."

She pointed at Dumbledore.

"My dear, whatever have I done that got you so angry with me?" Dumbledore asked, sounding puzzled.

"You made him go through that hell, every summer, claiming blood wards! A simple blood adoption would have given him the opportunity to live somewhere else, under blood wards! You knew, you knew, yet you condemned him to that hell!" Hermione said, sounding calm and very dangerous because of that. "If it wasn't for the Malfoys, Harry would be dead now, and it would have been your fault! I respected you, but now, now I loathe you, perhaps even more than I loathe Voldemort. At least he was straightforward about wanting Harry dead!"

With those words, she turned to Narcissa.

"Could you help us get Harry to his room? He needs to rest," she asked Narcissa, sounding very pleasant and polite.

Ron was baffled for a moment about her sudden change of mood, until he met her eyes. They were still blazing with anger, and Ron knew that Dumbledore would regret making Hermione Granger angry. And, he was angry too. He was controlling it, knowing that anger from him would only diminish Hermione's destroying words. Right now, he needed to help Harry, and then they could plan their revenge. Oh yes, revenge they would get. For once, Ron was looking forward to working with the Malfoys. Surely, as one of the top Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy would know some neat tricks. Yes, Dumbledore would pay for what he did to Harry.

In the end, Hermione and Ron went back with Dumbledore and Snape to Hogwarts, while Harry and Draco stayed the night at Malfoy Manor. The next day, they rejoined the student population of Hogwarts. Nothing more was said about Hermione's rant against Dumbledore, or about Harry's adoption. It seemed as though Dumbledore had accepted the fact that nothing could be done. The peace and quiet however, was shattered on the first day Harry was back in classes, and by none other than Harry himself.

"Mister Potter, can you tell me the three main rules when one transfigures something that is meant to be permanent?" McGonagall asked.

"It's Malfoy," Harry said.

Ron, who was sitting next to him, stared at Harry. Surely, he couldn't seriously mean that, could he?

"I'm sorry?" McGonagall said.

"I was adopted, Professor, so it's Harry Malfoy now," Harry answered calmly, although Ron could see his hands were shaking where he held them under the table.

Apparently, he did mean it. McGonagall seemed baffled for the moment, but decided that she would just gloss over the name. She asked the question again, this time not naming Harry at all. The lesson continued as normal, but at the end of the lesson, she asked Harry to stay behind, again, without saying his last name, but everyone knew who she meant.

"Only if it's about something else than my last name," Harry answered.

Ron wondered if Harry was still suicidal, it seemed that way. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, waiting for McGonagall's answer.

"Mister Potter," she began, but didn't continue as Harry just walked out the door.

Ron followed him out, Hermione and Malfoy on his tail.

"Harry, mate, wait up," Ron said, but Harry didn't slow down at all.

Eventually, they caught up.

"You do realise you don't have to change your name," Malfoy said.

This made Harry stop, he turned to Malfoy.

"I can't be a Malfoy in name?" he asked, but the tone in his voice revealed there was more to the question than there was being asked.

"You can, but you don't have to, you can still be a Potter if you want to," Malfoy said.

"What if I don't want to?" Harry said, sounding very much like he was five again.

"Then you're a Malfoy," Ron said.

He could accept Harry as a Malfoy, after all, Harry was still Harry. He then looked at Malfoy. With a big sigh, he decided that he'd better start calling him Draco.

"So, Draco, want to study with us?" he asked.

Harry's happy smile was a sign that he'd made the right decision.

Not long after Harry was back at school, Halloween was upon them. The teachers had gotten used to calling him Mister Malfoy, as Harry pointedly refused to listen to anything else. The Slytherins apparently found it all really amusing, and had stopped bothering the Gryffindors. Skeeter had got hold of the story of the adoption, but the next day a much nicer story about Harry's adoption was printed. If Draco's smug smile was any sign, it was probably Lucius Malfoy that had something to do with that remarkable turn-around of opinion.

"Harry, you need to eat something," Hermione said at breakfast.

"I can't," Harry answered, throwing his fork down. "Do you have any idea what day it is?"

"Well yes, it's Halloween," Hermione said, puzzled, "but that still doesn't explain why you're not eating."

"Something always happens on Halloween," Harry answered.

Just at that moment, the doors to the Great Hall opened, and a party of men entered. Ron made a grab for his wand, until suddenly he recognised Lucius Malfoy amongst them.

"What's he doing here?" he asked.

Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Ah, gentlemen, you're early," Dumbledore said, standing up. "May I all introduce you to our esteemed governors, who are here today to witness normal proceedings of the school, and to partake of our Halloween feast. Please, don't let them interrupt your day."

"I can't believe it," Hermione said. "Out of all days, they pick this one?"

"Yeah," Harry said, a faint smile on his lips, and he resumed eating.

Ron sought out Lucius's eyes, and tipped his head in thanks. Yes, the Malfoys were good for Harry.

Ron was nervous, very, very nervous. He'd gone through all of his clothes, and picked out three outfits to wear. But, when he'd asked Harry what he should wear, the boy had shrugged his shoulders, and just said he didn't have any fashion sense.

"What do you mean, no fashion sense? You always look great," Ron said.

Harry snorted.

"Yeah, because Narcissa bought me a wardrobe that would match no matter what I pulled out of the closet," he answered with amusement in his voice. "Apparently, she didn't trust my fashion sense."

Ron groaned. He was doomed, he knew it. There was no way he could pick out the right outfit, and Hermione would take one look at him, laugh, and that would be the end of their date.

"Mate, don't sweat it, she likes you, and she's used to how you dress," Harry said, still smiling wildly.

Ron sighed, he supposed it was true. He picked the outfit that was lying closest, and decided it would just have to do. He'd thought asking Hermione out had been scary, but this, their first date, was much scarier.

"So, what are you going to do?" Ron asked, trying to take his mind of the date for a moment.

"I'm going to do some Christmas shopping with the Slytherins, then I'll see you and Hermione at the Three Broomsticks for lunch. After lunch, I'll go with you guys and we can do some Christmas shopping, since I'll still need to get a present for Draco, and some candy for the rest of the Slytherins," Harry answered.

"You know, it's still weird to hear you talking about shopping with the Slytherins as if it's normal," Ron remarked.

"I thought you were all right with me hanging out with them?" Harry said, sounding hurt and scared.

Ron looked at his friend, and saw the almost desperately pleading look in his eyes. Sometimes it was so easy to forget just how hurt Harry was, and how fragile.

"I am, I've got no problems with it. They're mostly all right, but it's still weird, you know. It's just not something I'd expected at the beginning of the year, and sometimes it all seems, I don't know, like a dream or something," Ron said.

"Nope, no dream," Harry said. "Come on, let's go, I'm sure Hermione and Draco are all ready waiting for us, and I don't think either of them is going to be happy if we're late."

"Yeah," Ron answered. "Who knew they'd be so scarily similar."

Ron sat across from Hermione in a small tea-shop in one of the many side alleys in Hogsmeade. Scarily enough, Draco was the one who suggested it to him, and it appeared he had been right. Ron had wanted to know where to take Hermione for their date, and when Draco had recommended this place, Ron hadn't wanted to go there first. Mostly because he was a bit wary about trusting Draco with something so important. However, when Harry had remarked it could in no way be worse than taking Hermione to Madam Puddifoot's, Ron had decided to follow Draco's advice, and it seemed as if he'd done the right thing. They were having a wonderful time, just talking, and Ron was even holding Hermione's hand. He felt like he was in heaven, and, feeling generous, he decided he was going to buy Draco a really good Christmas present to thank him.

"We should be heading to the Three Broomsticks," Hermione said, although she didn't sound eager to be off.

"Yeah, we should," Ron said, but still they stayed seated for a few more minutes.

Five minutes later, they dropped down in their seats next to Harry, who was looking at them with a big grin.

"So, how did the date go?" he asked them

Ron blushed, but Hermione answered that it had been great. Harry smiled, and Ron was happy Harry didn't seem to be jealous, or even afraid that they might abandon him now that they were together.

"So, how was shopping with the Slytherins?" Ron asked.

Harry groaned.

"Please, don't ask. It's like a man's worst nightmare, I swear. I thought only women liked to shop, but boy Draco and Blaise sure know how to shop too," Harry said, sounding tortured.

"You have my sympathies, mate," Ron said, very amused.

Madam Rosmerta interrupted their conversation to ask them if they wanted anything, and they ordered lunch. Soon after, they were all enjoying their food, but Ron noticed Harry wasn't eating much. It usually meant that something was bothering him.

"Something wrong?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, no, I don't know," Harry said.

Ron sighed; that made the problem so clear. Yes, he could really help with such an answer.

"Harry, tell us," Hermione said softly, placing her hand on Harry's.

Ron felt a stab of jealousy, but waved it away. There was nothing going on between those two, except for being really close friends. He turned his attention to Harry's story.

"It's just, I've been invited to the Malfoy's for Christmas…" Harry said.

"Mate, you're a Malfoy now, part of the family, of course you're invited," Ron said, not seeing the problem.

"But I have no idea what to buy them!" Harry exclaimed, then softened his voice, as everyone had looked up at his exclamation. "I don't want to disappoint them, and I want to show them I'm very grateful for what they did for me. I don't want to buy them just anything, you know?"

Harry looked at them, pleading with his eyes for their help.

"We'll help you find the perfect gifts," Hermione assured him, "won't we, Ron?"

Ron nodded, his mouth full of food. They would, although he knew that it would probably be Hermione who would help, he wasn't exactly good at giving the perfect gift. It had taken him long enough to figure out what to give to Hermione, and he knew her.

They spend the rest of the afternoon wandering from shop to shop, going into even the most unlikely places to find the perfect gift for the Malfoys. Narcissa's gift was the easiest, and they found it fairly quickly. Ron suspected it had been the easiest because Hermione was a woman too, and she would know what women really liked. Lucius Malfoy's gift took a lot longer to find. The biggest problem was that the man was filthy rich, and had probably bought everything he wanted the minute he wanted it. Eventually though, they found something in a tiny shop in an even tinier alley.

But it turned out that Draco's present was the hardest to find. Hermione, and even Ron himself, had made several suggestions, but each one was rejected by Harry. It was almost five o'clock now, and they were getting desperate, or better said, Harry was getting desperate, almost to the point of being hysterical.

"Harry, mate, calm down. It's not the end of the world," Ron said, in an attempt to calm his friend down.

"No, Ron, you don't understand. I need to have a present for him, I just need to," Harry said frantically.

Ron sighed. He didn't understand why this was so important for Harry, but it was, so he would stand by his friend.

"All right," Ron said. "Over there is an alley we haven't tried yet."

They went into the alley Ron had pointed out. The buildings there were mostly houses, but there was one shop tucked in between two of the houses. Entering it, it became clear it was a second-hand shop, were there were all kinds of treasure hidden amongst the junk. The trio split up, and once in a while either Ron or Hermione showed Harry something that could be given as a present to Draco, but each time Harry rejected their choice. Ron was ready to give up, certain they had searched the entire shop, when he heard Harry give a triumphant exclamation.

"Look at this," Harry said, holding up his find.

Hermione gasped, and stretched out her hand, but stopped short of touching the object in Harry's hand.

"It's perfect," she said, breathlessly.

Harry nodded, looking scarily like one of the twins did after they pulled of a successful prank. Ron grinned too, relieved that Harry had what he wanted, so they could go back to Hogwarts and get something to eat.

Ten minutes later, the three friends left Hogsmeade, all content. Harry with his treasures, and Ron and Hermione with each other.

Ron sat on his bed, looking bemusedly at his friend. Harry was packing his trunk; nothing special about that, but he was humming. Harry never hummed when he packed his trunk, because Harry was never happy that he had to leave Hogwarts. Now though, he was. The next day they would leave to celebrate Christmas with their families, and for the first time, Harry had a family to celebrate with.

The fact that Harry was so happy, however, wasn't the reason that Ron was so bemused. No, the bemusement came from a rather cryptically worded invitation, issued by Draco. Both Hermione and he were invited to spend boxing day at the Malfoys, so they could exchange presents with Harry. Nothing really weird about that, if you forgot the fact that a Malfoy invited a Weasley and a Muggleborn. No, the mystifying part was that Draco had said they could exchange presents and talk. How he had looked when he'd said they could talk made Ron think that it meant more than just a friendly talk. Hermione had gotten the hidden message too, and they were both very interested in hearing what they would be talking about. They had no doubt that it was about Harry, about how they could help him, about the fight against Voldemort, and about how to take revenge on Dumbledore for putting Harry with those monsters.

Yes, Ron thought, he might not get why Draco was involving them, but he was not going to let this chance slip away. Oh no, he would stand by Harry, even if it meant standing by the Malfoys. Yes, he was looking forward to this talk. But for now, he was going to pack his own trunk, and then go to dinner. After all, one mustn't do anything important on an empty stomach, even if it was only dreaming about revenge.

The End

A/N: thanks to my fantastic beta Logical Quirk

A/N2: This story will have a sequel, called An Emerald Alliance, where Harry will deal with his problems, being a part of the Malfoy family, Voldemort and much more! However, I am going on holiday tomorrow, so the first chapter of the sequel will have to wait until I get back. It will probably be two weeks, or slightly more, before I will be able to post the first chapter of An Emerald Alliance.


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